Happy Ending?
by Radar-rox
Summary: A threat from the past that only Vince knows about means Tara is in danger. N.B It's now gone further than that, and is really just going to be their lives from now on. Final Tara story, rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello folks! Here I am, new story as promised. Just a couple of things, first of which is that if at any point during reading this you feel like sending an angry mob for me, please try and restrain yourself as the carpet took ages to clean last time. Secondly, I like to think I've been a bit cunning in this first chapter as far as dropping subtle hints goes, so keep your wits about you when reading it. Thirdly, if you've been follwing the Tara stories right from the very beginning, you'll have read my very first one, 'A Visit from Tara Noir'. In chapter nine of that, near the beginning, theres something that relates to this fic. Go and have a look if you want, I'll wait here for you... Ok then? On with the fic.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own the Boosh, Noely and the Ju-Ju man do, but you knew that by now. I do however own Tara, and Jools (who will probably be making an appearance later on) belongs to the lovely cookiemunster (if you haven't been reading the Jools fic, get on and do it instead of wasting your time reading this rubbish!)**

It was a rainy wednesday afternoon. Bollo was in his room sorting out his records, Howard was busying around in the kitchen and Vince, Naboo and Tara were watching Baz Lurman's Romeo and Juliet.

Naboo noticed that Tara was whispering something to herself. 'Wake up… wake up..'

He smiled a little. 'You do know what happens, don't you?'

'Of course, and I've seen this film countless times, but each time I still believe that she'll wake up if I want it enough.'

He kissed the side of her head, then had an idea. 'Close your eyes.'

She obliged, and he put the hand that wasn't around her waist over her eyelids, and imagined as hard as he could.

_Juliet stirred, and woke just as Romeo lifted the vial of poison to his mouth. He saw her, and couldn't believe his eyes. They embraced, she quickly explained and they escaped as the police broke the door down, and lived a secluded life happily ever after._

Having seen all this thanks to Naboo, Tara opened her eyes. 'See, this is why I love you. I know you'll always give me a happy ending.'

She was frowning a little though.

'What's wrong?'

'Its just…. You do all this sweet and amazing stuff for me, and I don't do anything like it for you.'

'So?'

'So, I'm afraid you'll get fed up of doing it without getting anything back and...' she glanced sideways at him. '… leave me. And I'd do stuff for you, but I really have no idea what I could do that would-'

Naboo silenced her by putting a finger to her lips. 'All I want from you is for you to love me, which you do, right?'

'Of course I do.'

'And I'd never leave you.'

She kissed him, trying to push the lingering doubts she still held away.

Howard had soon finished the curry he'd made. However, in this case 'finished' meant 'burnt to a crisp', and Naboo made a mental note to teach Howard and Vince how to cook properly as he made a quick trip to the Chinese takeaway.

They spent the evening lounging about in the living room, drinking and discussing the gig that Howard, Vince and Bollo were going to the following night, to give Naboo and Tara the flat to themselves. Even though Tara hadn't actually moved in, she was spending most of her time there now, meaning that she and Naboo didn't have a lot of time alone. It was actually Naboo who had asked the others to give them some time together, and now he sat quietly, fiddling with something in his pocket.

Naboo got up early the next morning to watch the Moomins, a secret habit he had that still only Tara knew about. He'd usually wake her as well, but she looked so peaceful that he didn't like to. He returned to bed alone, and woke a few hours later when Tara got up to have a shower.

He got up as well, discovering that Tara had apparently been awake for a little while, because she'd platted a few strands of his hair, a habit she had when she was bored in the mornings. He breakfasted with his flatmates while listening to the radio. It was the same as every morning, until Tara emerged from his bedroom, fully clothed but looking worried.

'I've got a headache.'

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm afraid this chapter's a little something-and-nothing... its mostly a link between the last chapter and the next one (which will be better, I promise!)**

Naboo got up immediately, and put his hands to the sides of Tara's head. Knowing that he was trying to see what was causing her headache, she closed her eyes and relaxed her mind. Unseen by her, Naboo was frowning; he'd pushed away her conscious thoughts of the day, and memories of what had happened when she'd had headaches before, but was unable to see what was causing her headache this time. All he could see was darkness.

He lowered his hands. 'Did you see what it was?' asked Tara.

'No, just darkness.'

Remembering what had happened in Paris, she asked, 'Someone blocking you again?'

He sighed. 'I dunno.'

Vince was sat on the sofa, looking worried and thinking the same thing he thought every time Tara got a headache. _Oh no, please, not now, another time, not today, not now…_

Tara sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, trying to push away the panic that was threatening to engulf him. _No, they wouldn't not now, not when she and Naboo have gotten so close. Its probably just another dust bunny or something._

Naboo had retreated to his room to look at his books, in the dim hope of finding something useful. He pulled his books on premonitions and mind-reading and flipped hurriedly through them, not really knowing how long he'd have.

Tara had been rubbing her head, and eventually got up for a glass of water and some paracetamol.

'You ok?' asked Vince.

'No.. I dunno, I feel different to usual, worse somehow..'

Vince's stomach plummeted. He took a deep breath, trying not to let the mounting panic show. 'I'll um.. go and see how Naboo's doing.'

He pushed the door open warily – it wasn't often he welcomed people into his room, so it was best to knock first. Or have a peek when he was out. 'Hey Naboo. Any luck?'

He sighed. 'Not yet. Don't worry though Vince, whatever it is, we'll sort it out.'

Vince bit his lip. Naboo frowned at him.

'Vince?'

'….Hmm, what?'

'You don't… know something.. do you?'

Vince jumped a tiny bit. 'what? No!'

Naboo looked at him for a little longer, then turned his attention back to the book in his lap.

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm too tired for a proper A/N, just leave me alone. And please review.**

Naboo had found nothing that he thought might be useful, and was now sat in the living room with the others. Tara was curled up in a ball in the wicker chair, not wishing anyone to talk to her because she said that thinking about words made her head hurt even more, and apparently it was hurting a lot more than usual already.

Vince was on the sofa, nervous and fidgety. He kept glancing around at Tara, as though he was concerned that something would happen to her the moment his back was turned.

'Come on Vince' said Howard bracingly. '"Cowards falter, but danger is often overcome by those who nobly dare"'

Vince remained doubtful. He didn't think that noble daring could overcome the danger and darkness that lay ahead of them.

Speaking of darkness, the sun that had been shining weakly down on their little corner of London slipped behind a cloud, and the room grew dimmer. And kept growing dimmer…. and dimmer..

Naboo jumped up and looked out of the window. It was almost pitch black outside. 'What's going on?!'

He hurried over to Tara and took her by the hand, still looking cautiously out of the window.

Howard and Bollo stood as well, looking around for signs of a thread, but none were forthcoming. Vince was still sat on the sofa, eyes firmly shut, tears threatening to escape from them, rocking backwards and forwards slightly. This was all too familiar to him.

The darkness outside had now begun to seep into the flat, as the corridor to the bedrooms grew dim, and the very walls surrounding them gave way to the impenetrable darkness.

And then it was just the five of them, stood close together in the darkness, looking fearfully about them. Tara was now stood next to Naboo, looking pale but otherwise ok – apparently the pain from her headache had retreated now that the danger it was predicting was here.

Something was stirring in the darkness around them. Faceless figures in long black cloaks were standing around them in a circle, and two others stepped forward in front of them. They were a man and a woman, both with shimmering gold skin and wearing flowing gold robes.

'Vince Noir' they said as one. 'It is time'

They all turned to look at him. 'Vince? What's going on?'

He looked up at them, pale blue eyes swimming, a child-like look of fear on his face. 'Please…'

'Your time is up. It is time for your debt to be repaid.'

'Vince, what are they talking about?' frowned Tara. 'Who are they?'

'We are the Fates.' They replied. Naboo gave a small start and looked across at Vince, panicked. The Fates continued. 'We are the masters of human lives and deaths. And we are owed a life.'

'No!' cried Vince. 'You can't!'

'We can and must. The debt must be repaid.'

Howard turned to look at his electro ponce. 'Vince..?'

Vince didn't reply. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of fifteen years ago.

**Sorry not much has happened again. Maybe next time.**


	4. Flashback Part One

**Just a couple of things to tell you before we get started properly. This is set way back when, when Vince and Tara were living in the forest with Bryan Ferry. Tara, instead of going to school, is taught by the elephants, going away with them for months at a time.**

**Thanks for reviews, next chapter should be up soon.**

**_Flashback:_ **Vince wandered moodily through the forest, kicking at the ground in his cowboy boots. Tara had only been gone for a week, and he was already missing her like crazy. He still had months until he would see her again, he didn't know what he was gonna do, he hated it when she was away. Sure, he had the animals to keep him company, Jahooly and everyone, but it wasn't the same. How could he be Volume Vince without Tantalising Tara?

By now he had emerged from the cover of the forest, and could see across the grass plains to the bus-ticket house, standing alone on a tree, looking out over Bryan Ferry's kingdom. He headed towards it, hoping maybe to find a lion willing to play charades. Thing is, they always chose 'The Lion King' and it got a bit boring after a while.

He began to climb the ladder, but when he looked up, he saw Bryan hurrying down it, closely followed by-

'Tara!!'

'Hey.' She said quietly. Her eyes were stained with tears and she looked exhausted.

'What's up?' asked Vince.

She looked up at him, but Bryan interrupted. 'Poachers are here, they have hurt Apaya. Quick, we must hurry.'

He whistled for transport while they hurried back down the ladder. At the bottom they were met by three cheetahs, whose backs they climbed on before being rushed off in the direction of the injured elephant, Apaya.

Vince, clinging desperately onto the fur of his Cheetah, looked across at Tara, whose Cheetah was running parallel to his own.

'What happened?'

'I- I don't know. We were just walking and then they were everywhere. They, um, they shot Apaya.' Tara seemed pretty out of it, but Vince figured it was just from the trauma of what had happened.

They reached Apaya fairly quickly. She was led on her side, a gunshot in her belly. It had been hastily dressed with leaves, and covered with some sort of paste, of Tara's concoction no doubt. Bryan ran over to her, while Vince moved closer to Tara.

'What happened to the poachers?'

'Shamuk and her family came and chased them off.' She replied, referring to the Warthog who lived nearby.

As they approached Apaya, Vince noticed that Tara was moving rather unusually, but before he could say anything, Bryan spoke again.

'Apaya is badly hurt, but she will be ok when we get her home. You did well, my child' he added to Tara.

'Thanks.'

Bryan produced a strange-looking horn apparently from nowhere and blew it, producing a sound like an elephant. 'They will come soon.' He said, before climbing back onto his cheetah, adding 'Wait here. I will fetch rope.'

As he disappeared into the distance, Tara walked towards Apaya and slumped down in the shade created by her bulk. Vince was about to do the same, when he heard Apaya's gentle voice calling him.

'Vince, please come here.' He obliged, and she continued. 'Please check on Tara. They hurt her too.'

'What?'

'The poachers, my child. They hurt Tara when she tried to defend me.'

He ran back around towards his sister, and knelt next to her. 'Apaya said they hurt you too.'

'I'm fine.' She replied, trying to shuffle away, but winced and gave up, slumping back down against Apaya. Vince gently touched her arm, causing her to pull away in pain again.

'That hurt?' he asked. She nodded. 'Where else?'

'Everywhere.' Her eyes started to glaze over and her head lolled back.

'Tara? Tara?!' Vince tried to wake her up, but to no avail. Pulling off her hat, he saw that her head was covered in blood, and it was trickling through her long hair down the back of her neck. He tried to sit up a little more, but upon pulling his hand from her back, he discovered more blood. She had been shot.

'Oh my god.' He said, looking down at his young, unconscious sister. 'Tara! Tara, wake up!'

She didn't wake up. She was dead.

**Please review!**


	5. Flashback Part Two

**Thanks for reviews, sorry this one has taken a little longer, it's because I've been working on a (as yet unpublished) Harry Potter fic as well.**

'Tara' he cried. 'Tara, wake up, wake up please, wake up!'

'Vince..' said Apaya.

'Tara!'

'Vince, I'm sorry..'

'No!'

'There's nothing you can do for her now..'

'No, there must be, I need her, I'll do anything, there must be something!'

* * *

Far, far away, the scene was being watched by the Fates.

'We don't need to take her now.' She muttered, watching the scene.

'You know what must be done.' He replied, emotionlessly. 'Our task is clear, we need the life.'

She glanced sideways at him. 'Like you need to stop leaving the toilet seat up you mean?'

'Will you stop with that?' he cried, breaking his composure. 'I was in a hurry alright?'

She rolled her eyes, then returned them to Vince. 'The boys suffering could be spared.'

'You know it cant. The life must be ours.'

'But now? When they're both so young?'

'He's almost a man.'

''Almost', Terry, almost, he isn't one yet!'

He said nothing, but stared down at Vince, weeping over Tara's small and broken body.

* * *

He rocked backwards and forwards clutching her, sobbing.

The light shining through his closed eyelids lessened slightly. He opened his eyes, thinking that Bryan had returned, but saw that there was blackness all around him.

Apaya had disappeared from next to them, and all around was darkness as two golden figures approached him.

He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

'Who are you? What do you want?'

'We are the bearers of life.'

'And the bringers of death.'

'You want answers, is that not so?'

'I want my sister back!'

'Her life is ours to take when we please.'

'But why now?'

'It is her time now.' Replied the man. The woman, however, looked doubtful.

'Please, give her back, please, I'll do anything!'

'It is not a question of that. We are due one life to be taken from here today, and we have chosen the life it shall be.'

'No, please no! Anything, please, you want a life, take mine instead, please!'

'You will not find such an easy way to escape from your grief. For your life to be given in the place of hers, she must be able to consent to it, and the dead are unable to do so.'

'But- but you're fates, wake her up, she'll tell you!'

'No' replied the man sharply. 'What's done is done.'

'There is another way.' Stated the woman. Even she didn't understand why, but she felt that there may be a reason to spare the girl. 'You may postpone the time when we claim the life.'

'What?' the man had turned his head sharply towards hers.

'The time may not be now.'

'The time is now, we made it so!'

She turned back to Vince. 'You may extend your sister's life a while longer if you wish, but be warned – such a deal as this is not to be undertaken lightly. The girl's life will be owed us, and must be repaid. You must always remember this, and will be continually reminded.'

'How?'

'The girl's life is owed to us, and in being the one to agree to this, you become a part in the debt as well. Whenever we are near to you, there will be a sign, and you shall know. In other words, whenever either of you is in danger, she will be forewarned, and will tell you, but you shall never know when it shall be that we will meet again, and the girl's life will be taken for good.

'Although there is little doubt that she will come to learn the meaning of the signs, she must never, never know the reason for it, until we deem the time appropriate, do you understand?'

'Yeah.' He sniffed. In his grief, he was finding everything a little hard to comprehend, but as far as he understood it, he would be allowed to keep Tara alive, for a while at least. He assumed that in years to come he'd be more mature, more able to cope with this horrible tragedy.

'You agree that you shall never tell her of this?'

'Yeah.'

'Very well. Farewell, for the time being.'

**Hope you liked that, please review!**


	6. The Debt Repaid

**Thanks for all reviews, please don't send angry mobs after me when you've read this chapter. And, depending on your temperment, you may want tissues..maybe a paper bag...**

They stood in silence, trying to comprehend what they'd just seen. The fates had shown them all what had happened through some strange illusion, which sometimes appeared to be happening in front of them, sometimes all around them, and sometimes inside their own heads.

'I remember that' said Tara slowly. 'At least, bits of it.. I remember Apaya and the poachers, and then going to get you and Bryan. Then I blacked out for a bit, and woke up with you next to me, then Bryan came with the other elephants and we all went back to the ticket hut. Then.. then I remember that I'd been hurt, and Bryan made me better. You wouldn't leave me alone' She smiled slightly.

'Vince, you made a deal with them?' Naboo asked in a low voice.

'I didn't know what else to do' He whimpered. 'I didn't want to lose you.' He told Tara.

'But I don't.. why?' Naboo asked the Fates. 'You never do this, why Tara?'

'Who are you to tell us what we do and do not do? The choices of the Fates are not your concern, none of this is. The matter is between the four of us.' The male Fate waved his hand, and the air around Naboo, Bollo and Howard changed texture somehow, now looking slightly shimmery, and they ceased moving.

'Naboo!' cried Tara. 'What have you done to them?'

'They are safe. We have frozen their time stream, so we may do this in peace. It doesn't concern them.'

'Yes it does! Naboo loves me! He loves me, and I love him, I want him here, unfreeze him!'

'No.' He replied sharply. 'What's done is done. And so this shall come to pass also.'

Vince took the opportunity to freak out completely. 'No! No, you can't! You can't take her, not now!'

'The debt must be repaid.'

'No, wait, I- Tara! We've got to do something!'

'Vince, I don't see what we can-'

'Come on, there must be a way, we've been through worse than this!'

'….when?'

'Alright, maybe not, but close! What about Paris, Desiree, she was coming at me with a knife and I was all chained up and you saved me!'

'Desiree was a psychobitch, these are Fates, they.. I think its kinda unpreventable.'

'No, it can't be!'

'It is time for the debt to be repaid. We must take a life.'

'No, wait! Before, last time, you said that you could only take me if Tara agreed to it!'

'That is correct.'

'Well that's it then isn't it? Take me instead, Tara, tell them!'

'What? Vince, no!'

'No, you've got to! Then they'll take me instead, and you can go back to Naboo! Please Tara, you've got to!'

'No Vince, its me they want, not you.'

'But you've got to! This is all my fault, its because of me!' Tears began to leak from his tortured eyes.

'Vince you were fourteen, I understand'

'No, you don't understand, it was selfish of me, I didn't want to loose you, I didn't care about how it would affect anyone else! I gave you a life I knew would be taken away from you.'

'So? That's what people who have kids do, give something a life that will be taken away from them in the end. You gave me an amazing life Vince, and I wouldn't change a moment of it.'

'Yeah, well... you did have me for a brother, so it was gonna be pretty great.' He attempted a feeble smile, and she returned it more strongly.

The Fates spoke again. 'Then it is settled. We take the life of the girl.'

Vince and Tara looked at each other as the male Fate spoke again. 'Call forth the Reapers.'

The woman made a chilling, rasping sound, and the faceless figures in black cloaks, who had been forgotten until now, stepped forwards.

Tara's voice shook as she spoke. 'Vince, I- I think this might be goodbye…'

'What? No! Please!' he pleaded, the tears coming thick and fast now.

She was crying too. 'I have to.'

'No.'

'I love you-'

'No! Don't say that!' he sobbed. 'I won't let you do it!'

'Vince, please listen. I love you. And Naboo, I- god, Naboo..' She looked over to where he stood, frozen, one hand outstretched. 'Can you- can you tell him that I knew what he was going to ask, and I would've said yes? Please?'

Vince's confusion showed through on his blotched and tearstained face. 'What?'

'Please, just do it, he'll understand.'

Vince choked back more sobs. ''k'

'I love you.' she said again.

'Love you more.' he hugged her tightly.

The Reapers pulled her from his arms.

'No…'

'It'll be ok, Vince I promise.' she said, echoing the words their mother had uttered when he was eight. The Reapers stopped about ten feet from Vince. One of them approached Tara with a big, curved knife.

'No.' He whispered again.

The knife was drawn swiftly across her throat, and a glimmer of golden light escaped, caught by the Reapers. She'd kept her eyes on Vince the whole time, and now a look of surprise crossed her face, although her gasp was muted to a gurgle by the blood in her throat.

She fell to the floor.

She was dead.

**Please review!**


	7. She was Dead

**Thank you to all my regular reviewers and also to 'EP' – always nice to have a new reviewer! I'd just like to make a note here to say that if you (i.e. anyone) are gonna submit an unsigned review with an email address, they don't seem to be showing up any more, I think you have to put 'dot co dot uk' or whatever in it, I think that might show up but I dunno, live and learn. I only mention it because I do like to reply to all reviews, but if its unsigned without an email address then sadly I can't! But anyway, on with the chapter.**

Vince's knees could no longer support him, and he collapsed as well. He crawled over to Tara and laid his head on her stomach, sobbing uncontrollably. As the Reapers faded back into the shadows, Howard, Naboo and Bollo unfroze, and ran over. When they saw properly what had happened, Howard knelt down and tentatively touched her wrist, although he already knew she was dead, and Bollo looked around for the Reapers, but they were gone, and the walls of the chamber were fading back into those of the flat.

Naboo just stood there, staring in disbelief at the body of the woman he'd loved, lying in a heap on the ground.

The chamber had disappeared completely now, and they were back at the flat, on the floor at the top of the stairs. Naboo knelt down slowly. He placed a hand on Tara's cheek, which was already beginning to go cold, then scooped her up and carried her to the sofa. They all watched in silence as the tiny shaman began to chant quietly, moving his hands around Tara's head. The gash across her throat closed up. In some ways this made things worse - if it hadn't been for the fact that she wasn't breathing, it almost looked as though she was asleep, and could wake up at any moment.

Perhaps it was that that made Vince say it. 'Fix her.'

Naboo looked up at him. 'What?'

'You heard.' he said, getting up and walking over to stand next to Naboo. 'Fix her, bring her back.'

'No, I-'

'What d'you mean, no?' His voice was hoarse from all the crying, but aggressive as he raised it. 'Do it!' he commanded, pointing down at his dead sister as he spoke.

'I can't, it won't work.'

'How do you know it won't work if you don't try?' he cried, shoving the tiny man and making him stumble backwards.

'Vince.' interrupted Howard.

'Shut up.' he spat back.

'Just calm down a bit, yeah?'

'Calm down?!' he shrieked, getting hysterical now. 'Don't you fucking tell me to calm down!' he grabbed Naboo by the collar and slammed him into the fridge door. 'Fix her!'

'I'm sorry, -'

'Sorry! I'll give you fucking sorry! She loved you! And look at you, you don't even care, its just another day at the office for you! Coming in here, doing your little chanting thing, you don't even care and she loved you!' He slammed Naboo against the fridge again. Howard and Bollo had been trying to pull him away throughout all of this, and finally succeeded, propelling him towards the wicker chair and sitting him down.

Naboo slid rapidly down to the floor. He leant his head back against the fridge and began to weep, his spangly body wracked by sobs.

Vince looked at him, then turned away, curling up in a ball and letting the tears slide down his face once more.

No-one said anything for a while, each absorbed in his own grief, until Naboo managed to pull himself together a little. He got up and walked over to Vince, whose face was hidden by his knees, taking a small box from his robes as he did so. He placed it on the coffee table beside Vince and opened it. Inside was a silver ring, ornately carved, with a sapphire in the centre, framed by two smaller diamonds. An engagement ring.

'I was gonna ask her.' he said quietly. 'Tonight.'

He walked over to Tara and knelt beside her. He took her hand and kissed it lightly, gazing at her with such intense love and sorrow that Howard, who was slumped nearby, had to look away.

Vince stared at the ring. 'Yes' he mumbled.

Naboo looked up again. 'What?'

'Tara, before, she told me to tell you that-' he took a deep breath. 'that she knew what you were gonna ask, and that she would've said yes.' His voice broke on the last word.

Naboo looked back down at Tara. 'How?' he asked softly.

'I dunno, she- she just knew.'

Naboo smiled slightly. No matter how well he thought he knew Tara, she could still surprise him. Even now.

He gazed at Tara. Only, it wasn't Tara anymore. The life that had made her Tara was gone, this was just her body, a shell. It still looked like Tara, smelt like Tara, felt like Tara. But it didn't move like Tara, or sound like her. Tara wasn't there anymore.

She was dead.

Her radiant smile was now a set 'o'. Her warm skin was growing cold. Her twinkling eyes no longer twinkled, but were cold and vacant.

She was dead.

**Please review!**


	8. She Shone

They sat around the flat, slumped in chairs or on the floor, still sobbing, or just letting tears slide silently down their faces. A couple of times they would manage to pull themselves together, until one off them would burst into tears and set the rest off again.

They'd lost all sense of time, so it could have been minutes or hours until Howard and Bollo stood up, looked at each other and mutually decided to take charge and care of the others.

Howard took another quick glance at Tara, unable to look at her for any long amount of time, the total opposite of Naboo, who seemed unable to take his eyes off her. 'What do we do? With her, with sorting everything out…' Howard had never had to deal with anything like this before, not arrangements of this sort.

'Board of Shaman will help.' Grunted Bollo. 'They can register sudden death without hassle, will make funeral arrangements if we want.' He looked at Naboo. 'They will need to be alerted.'

Naboo sighed and turned his head towards them. 'You go Bollo, take the carpet, I.. can't.'

Bollo nodded, and placed a hand on Naboo's shoulder, before leaving to fetch the carpet.

Howard was left alone with them, and he had no idea what to do.

Judging Naboo to be the emotionally stronger of the pair, he moved over to where Vince was curled up in the chair with his arms over his head.

He placed a gentle hand on his knee. 'Vince?'

Vince's arms shifted and his blue eyes peered out. 'My head hurts.'

'Do you want some paracetamol?'

'No, every other part of me hurts, I might - as well-' he was unable to go on, once more wracked by sobs, his whole body shaking.

Howard wrapped his arms around him as best he could, trying to calm him down, to comfort him, but no matter how tightly he held Vince, he could still feel him shaking against him.

'Vince, Vince, please Vince, I know it doesn't seem like it, but it'll be ok, really, it-'

'No!' he cried, muffled by Howard's shoulder. 'It's not ok, nothing is, Tara's gone, she's dead!'

Howard pulled back a little and cupped Vince's face in his hands, desperately trying to think of something to relieve the younger man's pain, but knowing that really, there was nothing he could do. 'Vince, look at me, please. I know it hurts, I can't imagine how much it must be hurting, and I know it must feel like its never gonna stop, but you don't have to go through this alone, we're all here and we'll get through it together, ok?'

Vince just looked at him.

'Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?' He knew that was a stupid thing to say as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

'I don't want to be cheered up. I don't want to be happy ever again.' His voice broke on the last word.

Howard just looked at him. There was nothing he could say.

Vince sighed deeply. 'We should let people know. Um, there's loads of numbers on Tara's phone, and email addresses on her laptop and stuff…. Could you…?'

'Course. I'll let Vienne know first, yeah?' Vince nodded, and Howard gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, then went in search of Tara's mobile and laptop.

Vince looked across the room at Naboo, still slumped in front of the fridge, staring at Tara, feeling every single memory of her so much more strongly now that he knew he wouldn't have any more.

Vince got up and walked over to him, wiping his eyes as he went. He held out his hand to help Naboo up. The shaman looked up at him through his curtain of black hair, and took it, coming up to just below Vince's shoulder when he was stood up, the same height as Tara.

'Listen Naboo, I.. I'm really sorry, for yelling, and pushing you and everything..'

'Its ok Vince, I understand. You were upset.'

'I wish people would stop saying that, its not ok, nothing is!'

Naboo shook his head sadly. Vince frowned at him. 'She really loved you Naboo, so much, I could see it. She's never been happier.'

'She shone' he replied quietly.

Vince frowned. 'What?'

'The first time I saw her, she shone.'

They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts of Tara, a lover and a sister who was no longer with them.

Vince sighed deeply, wiping away more tears.

'Make it stop Naboo.'

'What d'you mean?'

Vince pressed a hand firmly onto his chest, over his heart, perhaps subconsciously. 'It… just.. Make it over. I don't wanna feel this.'

Naboo understood - Vince wanted him to take the pain he felt over Tara away, numb it, fast forward through time perhaps. He only wished he could.

'Sorry Vince. I can't, it doesn't work like that.'

Vince bit back a retort about Naboo being rather useless today. 'What d'you mean, you've got cheering potions, numbing potions, in your room, I've seen them.'

'They won't work for this, this isn't ordinary sadness or pain Vince, this is grief, its different, stronger… it can't be cured by potions or magic, just time. Its something you-_we've_ gotta get through, and come out the other side of.'

Vince wasn't angry any more, he'd passed all that. Now he was just sorry, sorry for so much.

He didn't feel like he could speak, so he hugged Naboo instead.

Vince had hugged Naboo before, but it was usually when he was celebrating something, or pissed (and it was remarkable how often those two circumstances overlapped), and it was usually from behind, a quick squeeze then back to business. When he did hug him properly, Naboo never hugged back, just stiffened in a slightly uncomfortable way and waited for him to let go. It wasn't that Naboo didn't like him, he knew, they were really good mates, it was just that he wasn't really one for public displays of affection, especially with men - one thing Naboo was definitely NOT, was gay.

One of the things that convinced Vince of how much Naboo loved Tara was that she was an exception to this no-displays-of-affection rule. Of course they were still subtle about it, it would be awful if they were one of those couples who were all over each other all the time, no matter who was around, but luckily they weren't. But then again, for someone as reserved as Naboo, they way they conducted themselves would probably be the equivalent of any normal people leaping at each other and humping right there on the floor.

Vince hastily pushed that thought out of his mind. Naboo loved Tara more than anything, anyone could see that from the way he'd step up beside her and take her hand, or kiss her softly and catch her off-guard, or hold her close to him when they were sat together on the sofa on an evening.

Or when he would hug her. He was hugging Vince now. It wasn't Vince hugging him while he stood there uncomfortably, it was Naboo hugging him back, his arms around his back, face pressed into his chest so that his turban was slightly askew.

Perhaps he was just too upset to actually think about it. Perhaps he wanted to be close to someone who might understand a fraction of what he felt. Perhaps, like Vince, he just wanted someone to hug.

**I hope you all think that turned out ok, I've spent about an hour just trying to get one sentance sorted. Please review.**


	9. Saboo Sacked

**Two of my lovely wonderful reviewers are away this week, Beth and Adele. I know you both will be reading this when you get back, so I thought I'd dedicate this chapter to you two, I've missed your reviews and msn greatness, and look forward to your return!**

The carpet dipped and swayed slightly in the wind; Bollo wasn't as adept at flying it as Naboo.

When he arrived in the forest in front of the Board of Shaman, they were lounging in their chairs, smoking, chatting idly, reading and even knitting. They looked up when Bollo landed in front of them.

'Bollo. You were not summoned.' Said Yakoo, putting away his Windsock Weekly. 'What are you doing here without Naboo?'

'Naboo can't come. Tara is dead.'

They all looked taken back. After a moment, Yakoo spoke again. '…..Who?'

Despite Yakoo's seniority, Bollo still gave him quite a glaring. 'Tara, Naboo's girlfriend.'

'Oh, right, of course.' He nodded.

'That young Miss Noir?' rasped Tony, putting his knitting away. Don't even think about how that would've been physically possible, it'll only hurt your head. 'Lovely girl she was, what happened?'

'Vince made deal with Fates when younger, they tried to take her but agreed to wait. They take her now.'

'This is strange' said Yakoo. 'The fates are not usually ones to be bargained with. This girl must've had some purpose.'

'She brought happiness to Naboo.' said Bollo.

They nodded solemnly. 'I suppose you want us to make arrangements?' Asked Yakoo.

'Please.'

'Wait, wait, hang on a minute!' Said Saboo, holding out a hand. 'We arrange the funerals of fellow shamen, not their _girlfriends_!'

'Naboo is a valuable shaman, and we shall do what we can to relieve his pain during this time.'

'Oh, sure, _Naboo's_ important, yes, when anything happens to him its front-page news, but did any of you remember my birthday?'

Yakoo rolled his eyes. 'We apologised, ok? You know it was the same week as those dodgy cauldrons kept popping up all over the place, we had a lot on our minds.'

Saboo muttered something that sounded distinctly like 'short little prick'.

Yakoo had had enough. 'That's it! Bollo, tell Naboo we shall make arrangements for him, and send word. Nashtao, take Bollo to get the Shroud.' He said to the witch to his right, who led Bollo away, then turned to Saboo. 'And you. Time and time again I have asked you to keep your feelings towards Naboo to yourself, at least remain civil, but this you seem to be incapable of doing! Naboo is a fine shaman but you seem to be unable to see this, you pick on every little detail, no matter how insignificant! On top of that, you yourself are only a mediocre shaman, easily distracted in the field, and beaten to defeating Nanatoo by two ordinary citizens! The only reason you are a part of this board is because of one past glory, to which you have never since lived up to.'

Saboo looked about to interrupt, but caught the look on Yakoo's face, and shut his mouth again.

'I have given you chance after chance to prove yourself and you have failed them all. And now, in what must be the darkest hour of Naboo, good friend to us all and better shaman than you have ever been, you are still unable to keep your snide comments to yourself! Saboo, you are fired from the board of shaman, and there will be an inquest into just how far you should be demoted. You will be summoned for that some time next week but for now, be gone.'

Scowling, Saboo vanished in a cloud of thick, strong smelling black smoke, which clung to the nostrils and left them all coughing.

'He could've chosen Pine Fresh, but no…' spluttered Yakoo.

**Please review.**


	10. Bollo

**Hello everybody. For the next four chapters, I'm gonna be writing in first person for each of the guys, starting with Bollo. I'm also writing in the present tense, which I must admit I'm not usually that fond of, but _hopefully_ it'll work for this. I'm afraid that the next chapter might be rather similar in terms of events, because it's gonna be about the same night, but it'll be from Vince's perspective instead so hopefully it won't be _too_ similar. Anyway, this starts with him flying back from the Board of Shaman.**

I can feel the wind blowing my fur around as I speed through the air towards home. I still can't quite comprehend what's happened. Tara, gone. I don't know what Naboo'll do without her. He's of a strong emotional sort usually, he must be, being a Shaman. But he was different with Tara, he let himself be more open. Admittedly, I haven't known him for all his four hundred and six years because I'm only forty, but I've never seen him look at anyone like he looks at Tara. How he _looked_ at Tara – he wont be looking at her very much any more unfortunately.

The shroud is folded in my lap. There are traces of silver meandering through it like vines, so as to bind the shroud around the body as ivy might bind itself to a wall. It's really beautiful, and it's such a shame that its only used in such tragic circumstances.

I've brought curtains to hang around her as well until the funeral – she needs to be placed somewhere quiet, so that those grieving aren't disturbed.

I pull the carpet through Naboo's bedroom window. It's still habit to call it Naboo's bedroom, even though its Naboo and Tara's now. Rather, it was. Now it'll just be Naboo's again. Which means that I wont have to keep trying to remember to call it Naboo and Tara's room, but that isn't the point, the point is the reason why I won't have to. Tara is dead.

I can hear Howard talking in his room. As Naboo and Vince are in the living room sat on the floor, I can only assume he's talking to himself.

Naboo and Vince look up when I enter. I nod to them. Even though I'm able to express myself eloquently in my own mind, being an ape, I find it hard to verbalise everything. For the most part, it comes out as monosyllabic grunting.

'Hey Bollo' says Vince sadly. Even Vince is (usually) better able to verbally express himself than I am, and, don't get me wrong, he's a dear friend of mine, but he's hardly in line to be the next Stephen Hawkin. He doesn't even have a wheelchair, although if he did I'm sure it wouldn't be entirely manoeuvrable for all the glitter and feathers on it. I even once heard him reflect that Hawkin hadn't 'done as much inventing as he should' because he was unhappy with the voice on his computer, and that he actually wanted 'Duff Man' from the Simpsons.

Naboo's looking at me expectantly. 'Bollo spoke to Board of Shaman. Got shroud. Board of Shaman will make arrangements. They send word.'

'Thanks Bollo' says Naboo, as he and Vince stand up. There's a noise behind me, which turns out to be Howard, coming out of his room with the phone and looking exhausted and upset. He says that he's called Tara's friends and Vienne to tell them, and that Vienne will arrive tomorrow morning. I know that Vince knows a lot of Tara's friends from when they were younger, and I think Naboo has met a few of them, but Howard and I haven't. It's such a tragedy that it should be something like this that brings us all together for the first time.

Vince asks me what the shroud is, and I tell him. Poor Vince, I can't imagine what he must be going through, let alone once, but twice, because Tara has technically died for the second time. At least he didn't have to deal with this aftermath the first time, although he would have had to deal with the worry of what was to come.

'We must move Tara.' I see, then see the look of panic cross his face.

'Where? Why?'

Naboo explains that she has to be put somewhere quiet, and Vince immediately asks 'where she's out of the way?' in a cold voice. He apologises right away, and really looks like he means it, but I can still see how much it has hurt Naboo. Of course he doesn't want her out of the way, of course he loved her, of course he'd bring her back if he could.

I'm jolted from my thoughts by Vince asking where we're going to put her. I offer the option of putting young Tara in what we usually call 'the tower' (a name of Vince's devising), and they agree, so we being to clear out all of Howard and Vince's (barely used) musical equipment.

Howard kindly agrees that we can put it in his already small and overcrowded room. Once everything is cleared and we've hung the curtains across to shield the room and anyone in it from the outside world, I step up behind Howard. 'Howard. This for Naboo and Vince only. Come, we leave them alone.'

I lead him back to my room and sit down. He stays stood up, and paces the room like a restless lion. With poor taste in music and facial hair. He looks rather like he doesn't know what to do with himself, which isn't exactly unusual for Howard, but I can only assume that he feels he should be doing something more to help. Little does he know that there's very little he can do for them, not at the moment anyway. I don't think that how I actually think about Howard comes across very well, probably because of being an ape. He's hardly my best friend, and I do think he's a 'ball-bag' as Naboo puts it, but he's an alright sort of ball-bag really. He certainly can be an idiot, but he isn't totally useless, he's got Vince out of trouble in the past, and I'm sure he'll get him through this.

I try to tell poor pacing Howard this, but unfortunately, because of my limited vocal capacity, when I try to tell him this all that comes out it 'You useless idiot.'

**Hope you liked that, please review!**


	11. Vince

Bollo's come back. He's got armfuls of this white and silver fabric, I wonder what it is.

'Hey.' I hear myself say.

He looks at Naboo. 'Bollo spoke to board of shaman. Got shroud. Board of Shaman will make arrangements. They send word.'

'Thanks Bollo' says Naboo, standing up. I get up too, still wondering what it is that Bollo's holding, but before I can ask, Howard comes out of his bedroom and puts the phone back on the hook.

He looks exhausted. 'I think I've got everyone, I left a few messages on answering machines.. everyone I spoke to wants to come to the funeral, so we'll have to ring them back when its all sorted.' He looks directly into my eyes. 'Vienne says she'll be here in the morning.'

All of a sudden I can't speak, so I nod, and Howard asks the question for me, pointing at the folds of fabric that Bollo's still got hold of. 'What's that?'

'It burial shroud.' He says, putting it down on the coffee table. 'We must move Tara.'

I panic. Move Tara? Move her away? 'Where? Why?'

'Relax Vince.' Says Naboo, putting his hand on my arm. 'We won't take her anywhere, we just need to move her off the sofa. We need to put her somewhere quiet, where..'

'Where she's out of the way?' I ask coldly. God, why do I keep doing that? This isn't Naboo's fault, its mine. My fault.

He's looking up at me. He looks hurt. God, I'm such a twat. 'Sorry Naboo, I didn't mean to..'

He nods a little, I guess that means he understands. 'She needs to be put somewhere quiet, so that if anyone wants to be with her, they can do it in peace.'

'Right. Where are we gonna put her then?'

'Bollo thought in Tower. Bollo bring curtains for quiet, privacy.'

No, the tower isn't some medieval torture room we've got hidden in the flat. Its what we call the little round bit at the front of the house by the stairs, because it looks a little like a tower. I think so anyway, I said I could grow my hair out and be like Rapunzel. Then Howard said that it was a man that climbed up Rapunzel's hair, and did I want anyone climbing up my hair anyway, which of course I didn't. But I still said that it was a tower, and the others just got used to saying it too I guess.

'Good idea.' Says Naboo. 'We'll need to clear it out.'

All mine and Howard's (ok, mostly Howard's) music equipment is piled in there at the moment, but we'll soon shift it into Howard's room out of the way.

Poor Howard, its always him that gets the raw end of the deal, like stuff piled in his room or that awful unmanageable hair. He's still my best friend though, and I know that if anyone can get me through this, its him, just by being himself and trying to help in his own awkward way.

The stuff's cleared now, Bollo's hung curtains for privacy and is taking Howard away. I wish he wouldn't. Naboo understands more I think, but Howard's my best friend; I need him at the moment, more than ever.

'Come on then' says Naboo. I get to Tara before he does and pick her up in my arms, so he picks up the shroud thing. Bollo brought a table in from somewhere, and I lay her down on there. Naboo hands me the shroud and bends over her hands.

'Why do we have to do this?' I ask. I try to make it clear in my voice that I've got nothing against it, whatever Naboo does as part of his shaman thing's fine by me, I mean, I don't have any traditions of my own, so it's quite nice in a way. I'm just curious.

'It's tradition.' He says shortly, keeping his head down. I don't think he's mad at me or anything, he's just sad that he's got to be doing this. But still, I don't think I should ask him any more about it.

The shroud thing keeps catching the light, there's something silver woven into it, its pretty. Like Tara.

I finally realise what Naboo's doing bent over her – he's taking the rings off her fingers. I guess there must be some reason behind it, and he's not just planning to sell them or something. That must be really hard for him, taking all the rings off her fingers when he was gonna propose tonight. She should be wearing a new ring, his ring.

I realise with a pang that it was only yesterday that we'd been watching Romeo and Juliet. I never thought that today I'd be watching Naboo look down upon Tara like Romeo had looked down on Juliet.

I hope this doesn't end the same way. Nah, Naboo would never do that, I'm sure. Still, won't hurt to keep an eye on him I guess.

'Can you take her shoes and socks off please Vince?'

'Sure' Her skin's cold. I hate that.

'We uh…. We need to wrap her, in the shroud.' I think it's hard for him to say. Hard to accept. Join the club.

'All of her?'

'Yeah.'

Please, no. I know she's gone, that no amount of staring at her is gonna bring her back, but it'll still be her, I can still see her, I'll feel close to her. Just to keep a little part of her here, her, not just a body wrapped in some fabric. Howard says that we'll all keep a little part of her in our hearts, and she'll live on in there. Its not the same though is it?

'Sorry Vince, its just.. that's the way it's got to be done.' His brown eyes are sparkling. I know Tara liked his eyes. I guess I can see why – even when he's wearing this blank face of his, you can see what he's feeling. He's heartbroken.

'Ok' I hear myself say softly. He picks up the shroud. 'Are we just gonna bury her in that?' I ask, nodding towards her jeans and t-shirt. It doesn't look enough, it should be more… more special. Like her.

'I guess not.' He says, scrunching up his face in that cute way of his. God, if I don't stop talking like this _I'll_ be the one falling in love with Naboo. I guess that before, he was just my mate who was going out with my little sister. I spent quite a lot of time watching them to see how he was around her, to check that.. well, I don't wanna say 'that he was good enough for her' because Naboo's a great bloke, but I guess that's what it comes down to, subconsciously anyway. I kept checking how he looked at her to make sure that he really did love her as much as he said, that he wouldn't hurt her, and I sorta missed all the great stuff about Naboo that Tara saw in him, and I'm only starting to see it properly now.

'Do you wanna choose something for her?' he asks, smiling just a little bit. I look back at him, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. It's like…. this one final thing I can do for her, and it's something I love doing anyway. I guess that's probably why Naboo said it, I know he'd be perfectly capable of finding something for her himself.

'Yeah, thanks Naboo.' I think pretty much all of Tara's stuff is in Naboo's bedroom now, so it shouldn't be hard to find something nice. I think perhaps a dress, she has a nice white one somewhere, I could find a black satin belt, a nice necklace perhaps, Accessorize had some nice stuff when I was in there the other day…. No Vince, this isn't an opportunity for a shopping trip, get a hold of yourself. Clothes for Tara. For Tara to wear forever when she'll buried in the cold earth where you'll never see her ever ever ever ever again.

Before I know it, I'm sobbing again, clutching her 'scumbag college' tshirt. She wore this the very first time she came to visit me at the zoo, when she met Howard and Bollo and Naboo. The first time Naboo saw her, when he said she 'shone'. I dunno exactly what he meant by that, but I guess it doesn't matter. What matters is that Tara's gone, but she was wearing this the first time she met Naboo. Maybe this is what she could wear? Its not technically any different to what she's wearing at the moment, but it has more meaning. I dunno, I'll ask Naboo.

I call him in, and hold up the tshirt. I guess from the way he's looking at it that he knows the significance, and what I'm asking him. It takes him a while to answer. 'No, I… I wanna keep that.'

'Ok, sure.' I replace it, and carry on rifling through her clothes. I find a white summery dress at the back, crossover v-neck with a little black lace at the bottom, the one I was thinking of. I lift it out gently and look at it, as Naboo speaks from behind me. 'Yeah, that's…. that's the one.'

I gently slide it off the hanger and follow Naboo back to Tara, and wait outside the curtain while he puts it on her.

My head is filled with a thousand thoughts, and at the same time nothing. I stare around the room, seeing none of it, until Naboo calls me back in. There she is, looking beautiful, and yet not quite like herself. She… it's…. I know – the life has gone from her. Makes sense, she's dead after all. God, that still… I can't quite… how did this happen?

'Its… time to..' says Naboo, holding up the shroud.

'Oh. Right. How.. I mean, what do we….'

'We start at her feet, and just kept wrapping it around her, going upwards. It's usually easiest if-' Usually? How many times has Naboo had to do this? '-one of us holds her up off the table while the other one wraps.'

'Right. Which do you wanna..?'

He's looking at her like he never wants to look away, savouring every one of these last moments. I can't blame him. 'I'll um… I'll wrap.'

That leaves me to hold then. I take a deep breath, and tentatively touch her feet, wincing at the awful cold; there really isn't anything like it. I lift her feet a little, and Naboo unravels the shroud, starting to wind it round her feet. We work our way slowly up her body, and all the time I know that this is my last chance to hold her, then we reach her head. As if reading my thoughts, which hey, maybe he is, Naboo says 'we've gotta wrap her all in one go.'

I gently run my fingers through her hair, and whisper 'goodbye' to her. Naboo bends down and kisses her on the forehead. It's the softest and sweetest thing I've seen, and its heartbreaking.

Then he wraps the shroud around her head and tucks it in, and we're left staring at her, not even her, just a body wrapped in white. Unable to look any more, I turn away, pushing the curtains aside and stepping into the living room. A few moments more, and Naboo follows me.

I want something, but I don't know what it is. I guess it's probably another hug. Naboo hugged me earlier, but I don't know if he would again. He's got that expression on his face now, that special shaman one where you can't tell what he's thinking. I wish he wouldn't, I wanna know that he's feeling as bad as I am. I mean, I know he is, but I wanna be able to see it. It would make me feel better somehow I guess, its hard to explain…

I wonder if we can let Howard and Bollo back in now. Howard'll hug me, I know it, he's always got a hug in him, unless he's mad about something. I hope he isn't mad about this. He really liked Tara too, she was a bit like a little sister to him as well, I guess. But he still doesn't know how it feels.

I feel like I can't breath. Looking in the mirror, I can see my chest going up and down like usual. I still look amazing, thank god for product. That's not right though, I shouldn't look this good, not now. I should look a mess, like I feel. Maybe if I smudged my makeup a little more, did something with my hair….

I catch sight of Naboo in the mirror. He looks like he can't believe what he's seeing, like how dare I be worried about my reflection at a time like this? Hey, looking this good is a 24/7 job! But he's right, so I sit down, feeling a little guilty.

Naboo walks up our little not-really-much-of-a-corridor corridor and opens Bollo's door to let him and Howard out. I glance round, and Naboo's stood looking at his door. Its pretty late by now, but he doesn't seem to want to go to bed. Perhaps he just doesn't want to sleep in his bed by himself after all this time, or doesn't want to go to sleep because then it'll be tomorrow and he won't be able to think that she was alive only this morning.

So we all sit in the living room, in silence. Which I hate. But there isn't anything to say.


	12. Just a dream

**Thanks for reviews, I'm putting two chapters up at once, you'll see why when you read the next one. This one's not from the point of view of any of them, its just a little interlude-y thing, focusing on Naboo and Vince in the night.**

It was just a dream. He knew that. It must be.

But then, why was he awake?

_Was_ he definitely awake?

Did it matter?

Tara was sat on their bed. So was he, for that matter, although he could've sworn that he'd been lying beneath the covers not five seconds ago. Wait, he still was, wasn't he? Not only could he feel the covers over him, but, looking down, he could see himself still lying there, asleep.

So it must be a dream.

The bed was empty without her. Not completely empty of course, because there he was in it. But who was he? Shaman and ex-kiosk vender. But he didn't want to be defined by his job.

Tara. Tara had defined him. Made him all the great things he could be. And now she was gone.

She blinked at him.

Unable to speak, he simply nodded in reply.

They were communicating without words, simply staring into each others eyes, thoughts flying between them, mutual understanding. It was a dream, this wasn't possible. He could talk to people without speaking, but Tara certainly couldn't. It was a dream.

She smiled at him, and he felt his heart breaking.

He closed his eyes.

Opened them. She was gone. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

* * *

There was a knock at the door. 'Vince, time to get up.' came Howard's voice. 

'In a minute.' muttered Vince. He turned, eyes still closed, and felt something cold next to him. Opening his eyes, he saw Tara's face an inch from his. Cold, dead eyes and pale, decaying skin.

He screamed, and fell backwards out of the bed, scrambling away.

Naboo burst through the door. 'Vince, what's going on?'

Vince's voice shook as he spoke. 'T-Tara, in the bed, she, it was horrible.'

Naboo looked over at the twisted cover. 'There's nothing there Vince, it was a dream. You saw Tara?'

Vince sniffed. 'Yeah.'

'You sure you're not still feeling guilty about what happened?'

Vince shrugged noncommittally.

'Vince, it's important that you know that what happened to Tara, it wasn't your fault. It was the decision of the Fates, there's nothing you or anyone could've done, the Fates are the most powerful beings there are.'

'S'not that I feel guilty about.' he said sadly.

'Then what?'

Vince peered up at him. 'It's you, Naboo.'

Naboo just looked at him, confused. It seemed that his powers of intuition weren't as strong in the middle of the night.

'You loved her, and if I hadn't made them bring her back, you'd never had met her, so it wouldn't have hurt you so much.' Vince knew how much Naboo was hurting because in his eyes, they both loved Tara equally, only in different ways. 'I'm sorry Naboo.'

Naboo sighed. 'Vince, Tara was the best thing that's ever happened to me, if you hadn't have brought her back, that wouldn't have happened. I love Tara. Whether she be alive or not, I wouldn't trade having known her for the world.' He stood up. 'Try and go back to sleep, yeah?'

He shut the door behind him on the way out, and left Vince to get reluctantly back into bed.

**Please review!**


	13. Naboo

**Ok, unlike Bollo and Vince (and Howard, which is up next)'s chapters, this one isn't actually set in any particular time because, as you'll see, it can apply any time from when Tara died.**

I miss Tara.

**No, your eyes do not decieve you, that was it. I did wonder about doing more, but as we know, Naboo is a generally man of few words, so I think (and hopefully you'll agree) that it works, but of course also, what else is there for him to say? And of course, this is why I thought I'd put this chapter up at the same time as the last one, otherwise its a bit something and nothing isn't it?**

**Reviews are, as always, appreciated, but it is probably the world's shortest chapter, so I'll understand if you don't have anything to say.**

**EDIT: Gah, I've just checked this and it seems that if you press return on here a lot of times, it won't show up. So, the actual chapter is supposed to be quite far down and in the middle of the page, just imagine it or something, k?**


	14. Howard

**Hello, sorry for the delay, first week of college and whatnot. So this is Howard's chapter, I apologise if there's any mistakes in it, I was too tired to be bothered to proof-read it. (N.B. to Hannah - turns out its up sooner than I expected, sorry!). The next chapter (and subsequent ones) will be back in the normal third-person format.**

No-one gets up very early the next morning. I think we're all awake, but just lying in bed, unable to face the world.

Eventually though, I get up, and set about making breakfast. Eggs. Will anyone want eggs? What do people eat when they're grieving? Toast? Cheerios? Those horrible sweet things Vince eats? Perhaps I should put everything out. Or maybe nothing. Maybe I should let everyone get their own breakfast, like we usually do. Should everything be like it usually is? Everything isn't like it usually is though, so why should breakfast be any different?

I eventually decide to take out the cereal boxes and put them on the table, with a jug of what I _think_ is orange juice, although as far as I know we haven't bought any for quite a while, so it might be something else by now.

Just as I'm turning round, I see Naboo coming out of his room. He doesn't look like he's slept much. I try to think of something that won't sound stupid or obvious, but can't think of anything, so I settle for 'how're you doing Naboo?'

He looks at me like I'm being stupid and obvious, which, to be fair, I am.

I nod a little. 'Is there anything I can do?'

He sighs and shakes his head, Of course not – when is there anything I can do, I'm just stupid useless Howard, no good for anything except regular cups of tea.

He sits down at the table but just stares at the breakfast things I've put out. Bollo and Vince also emerge from their bedrooms and join him in silence.

Its so quiet.

I stand awkwardly for a moment, then join them. I'm hungry, but for some reason I don't want to be the first person to eat. I feel like.. we're waiting for something. Something that won't come.

I start to feel awkward, although that isn't an unusual feeling for me. Its not all that often that I feel completely comfortable, I don't know what it is, but I've felt like it for as long as I can remember. Vince is usually good at putting me at ease though, he's one of the few people I feel comfortable hugging, and Tara always was too, I always felt comfortable with her. I don't know what it was, whether it was because she was like Vince in so many ways, or just because she was so warm and kind, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter.

Just as I'm considering maybe getting some toast, the doorbell rings. Seeing no sign of movement from any of the others, I get up to open it, and find Vienne standing there, looking as tired as any of us – I guess she must've traveled quite a way to get here this morning.

'Hello Howard.' She says softly.

'Vienne.' I reach out to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she ends up practically falling into my arms and breaking down. I pause for a moment, surprised, then push my own awkwardness aside because I know that Vienne, just like Vince and Naboo, really just need someone to look after them at the moment.

A few moments more, and she pulls herself together. 'I'm sorry Howard, I-'

'Its ok, I understand.' I hold the door open and follow her upstairs.

When we reach the top, Vince looks up to see who it is, then away from Vienne to the floor, avoiding her gaze. He stays sitting down as Naboo and Bollo stand, nodding to Vienne. Again, I stand at the edge, looking on. It feels like I shouldn't be here, don't belong, that even though I was really fond of Tara and I miss her a lot, its nothing compared to what Naboo, Vince and Vienne must be feeling. I feel like an intruder upon their grief.

'Hello' she whispers to the room. Naboo and Bollo bow a little bit to her, but Vince is still looking at the floor.

'Vince?' She ventures.

He mutters something that I can't hear. Neither, it seems, can Vienne. 'Pardon?'

'I'm so sorry' said Vince. 'You asked me to look after her, and I failed.'

'You didn't fail.' It wasn't only Vienne that spoke, but all of us. Vienne cupped his cheek in her hand, and whispered it again. 'You didn't fail.'

He looks pitifully up at her, still sitting down, as tears slide down his cheeks again. Vienne knelt down and hugged him tightly.

This must be strange for Vienne. She didn't meet Tara that long ago, and even though they've been meeting up and bonding and everything, she still didn't know her as well as we did. But on the other hand, she was Tara's mother, which certainly counts for a lot. Once again, I feel like an outsider.

Vienne pulled back from Vince. 'What happened?'

Vince pressed his lips together and shook his head. Naboo spoke from behind him. 'I'll tell you Vienne.' He lead her away to his room, leaving just the three of us. I take Vienne's place kneeling in front of Vince, looking up at him without really knowing what to do or say. Vince is my best friend, and I don't know how to talk to him, how to act, how to help, and it kills me.

He speaks first, tears still pouring down his face. 'Howard… it won't stop hurting..'

I hug him tightly yet again. 'Oh Vince… I know it wont.. What can I do to help?'

'You cant do anything.'

Why not? Why can't I help? I'm Vince's best friend, I should be able to help him now, try and get him through this. Bollo was right, I am a useless idiot. 'But I-'

'I don't need you to DO anything Howard, I just need you to be you.'

I pull back from him and nod a little. 'Cuppa tea?'

**Please review!**


	15. Another visitor

**Thanks for the reviews guys, nice long chapter for you!**

**Got a mystery visitor who you'll meet in a minute and I have something to say about at the end...**

Vince and Howard sat on the sofa drinking their tea in silence. Naboo and Vienne were still in the bedroom, where Bollo had gone to bring them tissues ten minutes ago and hadn't returned since.

The sound of the doorbell made them both jump; they weren't expecting anyone else. Howard set his cup down on the coffee table and went to answer it.

Stood outside was a woman wearing a dark green dress, of what seemed to Howard to be a medieval style. Her long, silver-white hair was partly covered by the black muslin veil she was wearing, decorated with black beads and feathers and obscured most of her face and neck, except her navy blue eyes.

She looked up when the door opened. 'Oh! Hello, um…does Naboo live here?'

'Yeah, he's right upstairs, come on.'

The mysterious woman followed him quietly up the stairs, head bowed. 'Hang on here a minute.' Said Howard when they reached the top. Vince had turned round on the sofa to see who it was, and was now staring at their mysterious visitor, who nodded to him.

Howard knocked on Naboo's bedroom door, then nudged it open. All three of them were sat on the end of the bed, Vienne leaning against Bollo, who had his arm around her. She wasn't crying – just pale, looking at the skirting board in shock. Naboo was sat on her other side, head bowed. 'Um, Naboo? There's someone out there to see you.'

'Me?' he asked, looking puzzled. 'From the board of shaman?'

'I dunno.'

'Alright.' He got up and followed Howard. When he saw the visitor, his jaw visibly dropped. _'Jools_?'

'Hi Naboo.'

'How…what're you doing here?'

'I spoke to Yakoo, wanting to know why he wasn't doing anything about those idiots making crank calls on their crystal balls, and I think he thought I was one of them first of all because he told me to sod off. But after I'd yelled at him for a bit, he told me they'd been busy arranging a funeral. You'd asked them to arrange a funeral.'

Jools felt the waves of grief from all of them; obviously, whoever it was that had died (Yakoo hadn't got to telling her that part because as soon as she'd found out that someone close to Naboo had died, she was off on the carpet and away) had been very important to them all. 'Who was it?' She asked softly.

Naboo frowned at her a little, surprised that Yakoo hadn't said. He took a deep breath. 'It was Tara' he told her, hoping that Jools knew who Tara was; he didn't feel like explaining who she was, how much she meant to him and all of them- that was impossible.

But he judged by the look on her face that she did know. 'Oh…. Oh Naboo… I'm so sorry..'

Before he could reply, the door opened behind him and Bollo and Vienne joined the rest of them in the living room. Both looked at poor intrusive Jools, puzzled. She bowed their head to them.

Their arrival seemed to make Naboo realise that he hadn't introduced Jools to anyone.

'Oh sorry, everyone, this is my friend Jools, Jools this is Howard Moon, and Bollo my familiar.' Another deep breath. 'And this is Vince and Vienne….. Tara's brother and mum.'

She'd been in the middle of shaking Howard's hand and froze, looking at Vince and Vienne. 'I'm so sorry for your loss.' She bowed her head once more, then conjured a softly glowing light in her hand and blew it towards the pair of them. It grew to a large wave of shimmering gold light and fell over Vince and Vienne, who both looked a little startled.

Naboo, however, smiled slightly. 'Don't worry – it's a healing wave. It'll help, trust me.'

They nodded, grateful, and Naboo turned back to Jools. 'Did Yakoo say anything else?'

'Oh, yeah, I think he's got it mostly sorted now, for Thursday if that's ok.' She said, pulling a piece of paper with the details on from her dress.

They looked at each other, no-one raising any objections. 'Yeah, fine… thanks.' Said Naboo.

'I'll get the phone' said Howard in a resigned voice, taking the paper from Jools' outstretched hand and not looking forward to having to having to talk to all of Tara's upset friends again. Still, it was a job he knew no-one else would do. Or would be suited to do, even. That's right, Howard Moon….phone man… he could wear a fetching suit, maybe some sort of hat.

He retired to his room with the phone, and Bollo offered to make Vince and Vienne some tea as they settled onto the sofa, leaving Naboo and Jools partially alone.

They'd been friends for ages, and were so close, yet the silence between them was a little awkward, they hadn't seen each other for so long.

'I'm sorry it took something like this to bring me here.' She said.

'Its ok Jools, I know you've been busy.'

She glanced away. 'Yeah, things are... tense. Tense is the way I'd put it... so much pressure. But I'll get through it. I have to.'

Naboo nodded a little, and placed a hand on her arm. She looked back at him. 'Can I see her?'

'Yeah, she's..' He lead her through the curtain to Tara's wrapped body on the other side. Jools looked sadly upon the young woman's body. She couldn't imagine what Naboo must be feeling. She sighed, and started muttering under her breath and drawing charms in the air in front of her with her hands – blessing Tara's soul for its journey from her body and those who loved her.

Naboo was watching her. 'You can take the veil off Jools'

'But it's the mourning veil, I thought-'

'Well yeah, at the funeral if you want, but you don't have to keep wearing it now. You didn't know Tara, you've got nothing to mourn for.'

'I know how much she meant to you Naboo, I'm mourning for you.' Nevertheless, she took off the veil and shook her hair free. 'Can I see her? Like, a picture or something?'

'Sure.' He led her to his room, where there was a photograph of him and Tara together in the summer, when they all went out for a picnic in the country. Arms around each other, they were both smiling. Happy.

She cradled the frame gently in her hands, smiling a little at the pair of them.

'She's pretty.'

'I know, beautiful.'

'Did she know how old you really are, and about you being a shaman and everything?'

''Course'

'And you still managed to have a relationship with her?'

'Yeah….'

'Lucky you.'

He nodded a little from where he was sat on the bed. 'You're staying for the funeral, aren't you?'

'Of course, as long as you want me.'

'I do.' That wasn't the 'I do' he'd been dreaming of saying.

Jools placed the picture carefully back on Naboo's dressing table, then sat next to him on the bed. The grief seemed to emanate from him in waves. Simultaneously, they turned towards each other and hugged.

Everyone ate lunch together, then sat in silence in front of the television, taking in none of what they were watching.

Naboo got up and padded lightly to the curtain shielding Tara, and slid behind it. After giving him a few minutes alone with her, Vince followed.

'Hey, Naboo, um, you know that healing whatsit Jools gave us, why didn't you give me one before? When I asked you to-'

'-make it stop?' Asked Naboo. 'Because it won't make it stop, that's not how it works. What it does is help start the healing process, help take you out of this grief limbo. I didn't wanna give you one before because it was too soon, you had to grieve properly.'

He nodded. 'What about Vienne though? She hasn't grieved properly yet has she?'

'No, and the wave will help her do that. It works differently on different people.' He explained.

'Oh right. Jools, is she staying a while?

'Yeah, for the funeral at least. I… I need her here.'

Vince nodded, and gripped Naboo's arm reassuringly.

On the other side of the curtain, Howard got up to make some tea. He got as far as adding sugar when he accidentally knocked the bowl, then not-so-accidentally threw it into the sink in frustration. He stood hunched over the worktop, breathing heavily.

He felt a hand on his back, and heard Jools' voice. 'Howard?'

He turned around to see Bollo and Vienne staring at him too, and from the lack of movement the other side of the curtain, Vince and Naboo appeared to be listening.

He jerked his head to Jools, and she followed him to his room.

Howard sat on his bed and she waited for him to speak. 'I don't think they realise how hard it is. I really liked Tara as well and I want to be able to grieve for her, but at the same time I feel like I've gotta be strong to look after Vince. And he wants me to just be me like normal, but this isn't normal, so how can I be? I don't know what to do for the best.'

'At least you know how Vince wants you to act.' She replied. 'Quite often I don't see Naboo for ages, but when we get together its so easy to get back into the swing of things and everything's just normal like we only saw each other yesterday. But its different this time because of Tara and how completely devastated he is, its not like normal.

'But I think the only thing we can do is just be there for each of them as best we can, and just hope that they realise we'll do anything we can for them. And hope that it helps.'

Howard nodded slowly, and, feeling that he wished to be alone for a bit, Jools stepped outside.

It was soon getting close to bedtime, and only then did they realise that they'd hit a snag in who was sleeping where.

Jools looked to Naboo. 'Are we sharing as usual?'

'No, not now, I… I can't, I don't wanna wake up in the morning with you next to me and think its Tara, because I'll just...'

'Ok, I understand.'

Despite Naboo's attempts to be chivalrous, Jools ended up sleeping on the sofa, and Howard shared with Vince to give Vienne a bed. They all slept restlessly over the next two nights, and were reserved during the days, no-one looking forward to Thursdays funeral.

**Yep, the mystery visitor was Jools, who belongs to the lovely lovely talented Hannah (Cookiemunster), if you haven't read her 'Friday I'm in Love' and 'When Jools met the Boosh' (and to a slightly lesser extent 'When Howard Met Vince' - only lesser in the sense that its less about Jools, its still fab!) then I suggest you haul ass and get to it because they're awesome!**

**Please review!**


	16. The Funeral

'When are we leaving?'

'About forty-five minutes? Give us time to get there early and everything…'

Jools nodded, and lowered her voice so that just Naboo could hear her. 'Hey, I wanna talk to you about Vince, I'm a bit worried about him. I dunno, I'm picking up something dark from him, its not just grief, its.. despair.'

Naboo nodded. 'Yeah, me too. There's not much we can do though is there, except keep an eye on him.'

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Vince inhaled sharply as he felt the blade cut his skin. Still holding the razor as he stared into the mirror, he watched the crimson blood blossom from the cut and drip onto the porcelain sink. He watched it for a few moments, hypnotised, all kinds of dark thoughts trying to push their way to the front of his mind.

Eventually he looked away from the mirror and mopped his chin with the towel, then carried on shaving.

* * *

They arrived in good time for the funeral and waited in the unsuitable sunshine for the other guests to arrive. Jools could technically have represented the Board of Shaman, but Tony Harrison came to pay his respects as well, and Yakoo was to perform the ceremony. Although Vince and Vienne were her only family, the rest of the many seats laid out were occupied with Tara's friends, who seemed unable to comprehend what had happened so suddenly.

Eventually, when everyone had met and shared their sympathy, they were ready to begin.

'The funeral was awful, yet beautiful at the same time. It was awful because it was a funeral, a final chance to say goodbye to a lost loved one, what funeral wasn't awful? But it was also beautiful, and not just because of the cloudless blue sky and perfect scenery. So many people had shown up, not even including those who were too far away to attend and had instead sent cards or other messages of condolence. On her travels Tara had met and touched so many people, far more than Naboo, Vince, Howard and Bollo had realised, and every single one of these people had been in touch to tell them how much she would be missed.

Vince and Naboo felt unable to put their grief into words, so Howard spoke on their behalf. He had chosen a poem that he knew Tara had liked, and tweaked it slightly to make it more accurate. 'She was our north, our south, our east and west, Our working week, and our Sunday rest…'

When he finished, he looked up from the book to the crowd. He made a speech, but not many people really heard it, too absorbed in their sorrow. What they did hear was the grief in Howard's own voice, which broke on more than one occasion.

They put Tara in the ground and covered her with dirt. Said their goodbyes to her and each other, and returned to the flat, for there was nothing else to do. Except 'get on with life', whatever that was supposed to mean.

Vince decided to deal with his grief by going out and getting absolutely rat-arsed, which is what Naboo did the night after. However, whereas Vince returned home alone singing 'Hushabye Mountain' drunkenly to himself and collapsed on the sofa, something happened to Naboo, something he regretted instantly and never really forgave himself for. He returned home and slumped on the bed, and set to work to try and put things right the very next morning.

**Yep, that old favourite, **_**Stop All The Clocks**_**. Featured, as was so rightly said in a fairly recent ep of the IT Crowd, in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral. Of course, to the slightly more cultured, it is known as one of the works of W.H Auden.**

**Please review.**


	17. Time Passing

**Thanks for reviews guys, this one's sorta just about the time passing. As you can see from the very first line.**

And so the days passed. The weeks. Months.

Time went on, but it didn't heal much. Howard and Bollo, though still upset at the loss, were growing to accept it, but Vince and Naboo didn't seem to be.

Vince mostly wore all black. Of course, he did it with the utmost style, but that wasn't the point. The healing wave Jools had used didn't seem to have helped much. Once Howard heard him humming something, and took it to be a good sign until he realised that it was 'Paint It, Black'.

Naboo, on the other hand, they barely saw. Jools had to leave suddenly after the funeral, something about 'trouble', so he generally stayed in his room. The night after Vince went out, he also disappeared for the evening and returned dishevelled and reeking of booze. After that, he mainly stayed in his room with the door closed, strange-smelling smoke drifting from beneath the door. He'd be preoccupied when he did appear for meals, or when Howard or Bollo would get worried and beg him to come out into the living room with them for a bit.

They figured out that he must be up to something in there, but couldn't work out what. Howard only hoped that he wasn't playing Frankenstein and trying to bring Tara back by rebuilding her or something – those things never ended well. Not from what he'd seen on TV and films anyway.

Worried though he was for Naboo, Howard figured that he was old and wise enough to look after himself, and so focused most of his attention on Vince. He tried to get him back into the swing of normal life, and ended up actually reversing their usual roles as he was the one trying to convince a moping loner to join him on a night out.

Vince didn't want to go out. He just sat there, staring at the other, happy, people until they went home. He didn't want to watch tv, or even go shopping. He didn't want to do anything, except have his sister back, but he knew that was impossible.

Howard would tell him that even though he was hurting, he had to try and get back into normal life, to let Tara's memory become a part of who he was, let her live on in his heart. Deep down, he knew he was right, but it was so hard, when all he wanted to do was lie in bed and be sad.

One day, Howard decided that it was time to breach a subject he'd been trying to avoid.

'Um.. I've been wondering what you want to do with all Tara's stuff?'

Vince looked up at him sharply. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, y'know, its just that there's a lot of her stuff here still, and I know that obviously you wanna hang on to some of it, but.. do we really need to keep it all?' Vince looked away, biting his lip. 'I just thought that some of it mind remind you too much of her… or something…'

Vince sighed. 'I guess so, she does have a lot of stuff here. Its hard though… I like seeing it and thinking of her, even though it makes me feel-' He stopped himself just in time. _Crap_.

He looked around the living room, immediately spotting five items belonging to his sister. 'I guess I could sort it out or something.. I'd have to talk to Naboo about it as well though.'

Speaking of whom, the shaman emerged from his bedroom, looking exhausted, as he often did nowadays.

'Hey, Naboo.' Said Vince. 'We were just saying about.. maybe its time to sort out some of Tara's stuff, like…..clear it out a bit?'

'No don't do that.' He said immediately.

Howard and Vince looked at each other, uneasy. 'Naboo, I know its hard, but maybe its time to..'

'No, I know, but just.. not yet, alright? I need to… just wait a while, shouldn't be long, just a little more…' He trailed off as he returned to the bedroom.

Vince and Howard looked at each other again, worried about Naboo, but not talking about the subject any further.

A couple of weeks later, almost four months after Tara had died, Naboo came out of his room. There was a hint of triumph on his exhausted and upset face.

'Vince.' He said. 'I need to talk to you.'

**Ooooooohhhhhh what'll it be? You'll just have to wait and find out, my pretties! Please review.**


	18. There's a chance

**Yep, left you dangling a bit on the last one didn't I? 'Fraid it's gonna be the same with this one. Thanks for reviews, sorry if this one has a few mistakes, I did proof-read it but it was while I was watching Heroes so..**

'What is it?' asked Vince, wondering if this had anything to do with the last 'conversation' they'd had, about clearing out some of Tara's stuff. _Actually_, he thought, _I think that's probably the last time I heard Naboo speak, and that was about two weeks ago. Maybe I should keep an eye on him._

'Um, in here, please?' He asked, leading the way into his bedroom.

Vince was amazed – the place was messier than he'd ever seen it, including that time that Tara was looking after a friend's pet rat and practically turned the place upside down trying to catch it when it escaped. Almost everything seemed to be pulled out of the trunk, there was stuff all over the floor, all sorts of things that, despite his frequent (and sometimes secret) visits to Naboo's room, he was sure he'd never seen before.

'I need to talk to you' said Naboo again. 'Um.. I've been.. no..' He seemed to be having trouble finding the right words. Perhaps it was the months of barely speaking, or maybe it was that he didn't know exactly how to put what it was he wanted to say.

'Um.. ages a- well, not ages… pretty soon after Tara died, I- I had to talk to her about something, I'm not really supposed to access the Spirit Worlds without permission, or good reason, but I really had to, I really.. I had to. And there's loads of spirit worlds, but I looked in the more obvious ones first, and I couldn't find her there, no-one I spoke to had seen her.. so I looked in the less obvious ones. She wasn't there, so… none of them, she's not in any of the spirit worlds.'

Vince didn't understand what Naboo was trying to tell him. 'Yeah.. and?'

Naboo sighed a little, trying to put it simply. 'When you die, your spirit goes into one of the spirit worlds. I'm not gonna explain them all to you now, but there are lots, all different, some are kinda like heaven's supposed to be, and hell… but the important bit is that when you die, your spirit goes to one of them, that's what's supposed to happen, even ghosts are in them, the ghostly ones just overlap with our own world more than the others.

'So I looked for Tara in every single one of these, it took quite a while, but she definitely isn't there. And if she isn't there, it means I can't talk to her, but also.. if your spirit's in the spirit worlds, then that's where it stays for eternity. But if not.. like Tara, she isn't, so.. there's a chance…. I might be able to bring her back.'

**Please review.**


	19. The Idea Explained

**Thanks for reviews. This one's gonna be another cliffhanger I'm afraid!**

Vince looked at him, stunned. 'You.. Tara… bring her.. back?'

Naboo just looked up at him.

'But.. you said you couldn't.'

'Yeah, I know, I didn't think I could, I assumed she'd have gone to the spirit worlds, but as it is..'

'Right… but, it'll be Tara, right, definitely?'

'Nothing's certain yet Vince, I just wanted to talk to you, let you know, because if you didn't want me to keep going, keep trying-'

'What do you mean, if I didn't, of course I do, if you can bring her back, do it!'

'Ok, ok, but it's not that simple Vince, nothing's definite yet, its just a possibility, so don't get your hopes up too much.'

Vince gave him a look – how could he say 'don't get your hopes up', when he's just told him that he'd be able to bring Tara back?

'I need to do more research, we'll have to talk to Howard and Bollo, Vienne I guess.. Jools…'

Vince had a thought. 'Wait, but.. if we bring her back, the Fates will just take her away again, won't they? I don't want them to do that again Naboo, I can't go through-'

'No, Vince, it won't be like that I promise, that's not how it works. The Fates are in charge of life forces, that's what they took from Tara. They've got no control over souls, spirits. The go to one of the spirit worlds like I said, or they're supposed to. If we can bring Tara back, we'll be bringing back her soul, reuniting it with her body.

'But that alone won't mean that she's alive, it'll just mean that her soul's still trapped in her body, which might even be what's happened now. But anyway, for her to live again, she'll need a life force.'

'Right, so where do we get one of them?' asked Vince, imagining a giant shaman store, with shelves hundreds of feet high, accessible only by magic carpet, lined with jars upon jars of strange glowing substances, all labelled with different things about the life it contained.

'We don't get one Vince, we have to give her part of our own.' Vince looked at him, confused. 'We sacrifice a little of our own lives, don't worry its nothing dangerous, but the more people we get involved, the better it'll work, which is why we'll need Howard and Bollo too.'

'When are we doing it then, tonight?'

'What, no, not tonight, I need to do a lot more work on it, we need to get this exactly right! People have tried before Vince and it's gone really badly wrong, that's why I wanted to make sure you understand what it means, and what it'll take, but even I don't know that exactly yet. Only one person's ever managed it before, we'll have to go see them.'

'Ok, who is it?'

**Told ya! Feel free to have a guess, but be aware that I'm not going to tell you anything until I upload the next chapter! Please review.**


	20. His Story

**Sorry I didn't upload last night, I did intend to, but my phone line went tits-up yesterday so I couldn't get on the internet for a whole night! It was a nightmare, I tell ya... anyway, this is a nice long chapter, I'm afraid its a lot of rambling on about backstory, but I needed to explain the why's and wherefore's somehow! Also, now that we've got past the main grief bit of Tara dying, I'm trying to bring the humouor back into this a bit (it is a comedy series after all!), I feel like I lost it along the way, even though I was focusing on how upset they were and stuff... anyway, must stop rambling. The bit in italics is a flashback by the way, in case you couldn't guess.**

**Thanks for reviews, and guesses of who the mystery person would be - thats right, you guessed it, iiiiiiittttss...**

Saboo flicked idly through the Radio Times. These humans never had anything decent on – the only thing he really watched was the IT Crowd. He liked Moss, for some reason that he couldn't quite grasp.

He looked around the flat. It was messier than usual, and unclean, because he'd been around here a lot more than he usually was, since he had been fired by the Board of Shaman. There was a (very short) inquest and hearing into how far he would be demoted, which reached the conclusion that actually they didn't want him at all, and he could therefore no longer work for them as a Shaman. Now he had a great new job with fantastic promotion aspects. At Lidl.

There was a knock at the door. He got up to answer it, stumbling slightly over an old crystal ball, stained with what appeared to be Dairylea.

At the door was one of the people he wanted to see least in the world.

'Hello.' Said Naboo. 'This is Vince, Tara's brother.'

'What do you want?'

'I need to talk to you Saboo, please let us in.' He could see the pain Naboo's eyes, and (in what he knew was a sick way), felt glad. He didn't like Naboo. Everyone knew that.

Naboo was looking at him differently now. 'I need you to do me a favour.'

Oh no. This was it, what he'd been dreading for all these years, and it was a lot of years. Still, at least what was between them could be over now.. not that he'd be forgiving Naboo. No way. But at least he wouldn't feel like Naboo was lording it over him anymore, even though deep down he knew that he wasn't.

He let him in, and the other one, Vince, who ran his hand through his hair nervously.

'I hear you've been fired,' said Naboo. 'That true?'

'Yes.' He replied bitterly. 'There was a hearing, that pink knob Tony Harrison completely hung me out to dry.'

'I always liked Tony.' Smiled Naboo.

'Oh shut up. And get out, if all you've come to do is gloat.'

'No,' he said quickly. 'Saboo, I.. I need my favour.'

'What is it?' he asked stiffly, glaring at Vince, who was picking up all the precious magical items on Saboo's shelves to look at them, then putting them back in the wrong places.

Naboo noticed this, and give him a warning look. 'Vince…'

'What? Oh, sorry.' He sat down a little awkwardly on the edge of the sofa and looked up expectantly at the pair of them.

Naboo turned back to Saboo. 'I want to bring Tara back.'

'That's impossible' he said immediately.

'No it isn't, you did it. I need to know how.'

'Why? Even if you do manage it, what's to say what happened to me won't happen to you? Don't think I wont ruin your life like you ruined mine..'

'I've got to try, please, tell me, I need Tara back, I love her.'

'Wait a minute, what's all this, what happened to you? What did Naboo do?' Asked Vince.

'Looks like you're in luck Saboo.' Said Naboo. 'Here's someone you can bore who hasn't heard your sorry tale before.'

'Shut it titch. Very well Vince, I'll tell you, and let it serve as a warning – ­­­­­­­bringing people back won't necessarily make things better.'

'A long time ago, I fell in love with a woman, Amarantha was her name. She was beautiful, intelligent, gentle.. I tried everything I could think of to get her to notice me, but alas, nothing worked, until one day I found her weeping under a tree in the park. I sat down next to her and asked what was wrong, and she told me that she'd been out walking her pet Oupla and he'd run away. She looked so beautiful, even then. I calmed her down, and told he we'd look for him together.

'As we walked, she told me about herself – a lot of things I already knew of course, but I didn't tell her. We walked around for an hour, just talking, but it was the best hour of my life. We found the Oupla, it was sat in front of Curries watching SpongeBob Square Pants on the televisions, and she was so grateful that she invited me back to her house for coffee…

'Over the next few weeks, we saw more of each other, and I knew for sure that I was in love. When I wasn't with her, I thought about her, and grew sure that she cared for me as well. Then I didn't hear from her for longer than usual. I tried to get in contact with her, without luck, and ended up going round to find out what was wrong. She was dead. They said that something heavy fell on her head, a vase, the receipt to which was still in my pocket. I walked back home with Oliver the Oupla, numb. I had to talk to her, apologise.' Naboo felt an awkward clench in his stomach. Saboo continued. 'I searched for her in all the Spirit worlds, to no avail – I discovered that not everyone went there when they died, and wondered if there might be a way to call her spirit back.

'It took a long time. But I did it, brought her back by donating part of my own life, an act which earned me a place on the Board of Shaman. But that wasn't what I was after, all I wanted was Amarantha back, and now I had her, or so I thought.

'She didn't love me. I was kidding myself when I thought she did, but for a time I truly believed it. She cared about me, for sure, but not like that. She thought of me as a friend, or did. When she found out what I'd done, gone through, to bring her back, and how much I cared… in short, she didn't want to see me again.

'I was devastated. I couldn't imagine going on living without her, and didn't want to. I wanted to end my own life, but knew it would be difficult.'

'Why?' Asked Vince, who had been sitting sporting an amazed look, for the length of this long speech. Naboo looked bored, having tuned out his fellow shaman – he knew this sorry tale well, and also knew how much Saboo loved the sound of his own voice. However, he seemed to have been roughly following what Saboo had been saying, because he was the one to answer Vince's question. 'For shamen to kill themselves, the planets around their birthplace have to align in a very specific way, and it happens very rarely, and might not even happen in some people's lifetimes at all. Even then, the suicide isn't easy. Before you can actually do it, there's a very complex spell that makes it possible, and you have a six-hour window.

'Saboo had forgotten that he and I were supposed to go out that night – I hadn't been a shaman long, and it was my first big mission…

* * *

_Naboo knocked on the door again. He hoped this was the right night. No, it was the right night, it must be, he wouldn't get the night of his very first big mission wrong. _

_Saboo had definitely said to meet him at his house, at this time. He seemed alright Saboo, kinda quiet, but Naboo guessed that that was just part of being a shaman. He supposed he'd have to become more like that, quiet and reserved. Hard to imagine really._

_He felt that something was wrong. Using magic to open the door, he ventured inside, calling Saboo's name. _

_His breath caught in his throat as he entered the lounge. Saboo was in the centre of the room. Hanging by a rope from the ceiling._

'_Shit!' he hurried over, and discovered that he was too short to reach the rope. He grabbed a chair, and a sharp knife from the kitchen, and cut Saboo down._

_Leaping onto the floor next to him, he pulled the rope from his neck and waited for him to breathe again. He didn't. Naboo checked Saboo's pulse. His heart was still beating, just. He tried desperately to remember how to revive someone with magic, but in his panic, his mind was a blank. He was just about to resort to the human method of mouth-to-mouth, when Saboo suddenly gasped._

'_What the hell do you think you're doing?' Naboo asked._

_His breathing calming down, he snapped back __'What am _I_ doing?! What are you doing? That was my one shot, you bastard! I'll never forgive you for this, now get out!' _

* * *

Saboo was staring determinedly out of the window, a dark shadow against the dusk. Naboo spoke quietly to Vince. 'He's worn black ever since.' 

Vince glanced down at his own black attire. 'In mouring?'

He shrugged. 'Maybe. I think its mostly because he's a miserable git.'

Vince raised his voice to speak to Saboo. 'So why would you ever wanna help us bring Tara back, if you hate Naboo so much?'

'Even though I wanted to die, Naboo technically saved my life, so I owe him. If I do this, I'll owe him no longer.'

'Except for that tenner I lent you at the casino last year.'

'Didn't I tell you to shut it?'

**Amarantha means 'unfading' by the way, I thought it was quite nice, I don't know about the rest of you but I like using more unusal names in my fics, and also to know what they mean, so I thought I'd tell you here. Also, if you'd forgotten, and Oupla is that cute creature I created in my 'Tale of the Gnarg' fic.**

**I've also been thinking about doing Saboo's story as its own oneshot, I know its all explained here, but I'd write it up properly and post it seperately (so people who aren't reading my Tara series might read it), anyone think that's a good idea, or no?**

**Please review!**


	21. The Countdown Begins

**Thanks for the reviews everyone, glad you liked that it was Saboo, hope I made you feel nice and sorry for him :P By the way, I forgot to say in the AN for the last chapter, I put a clue to it being Saboo in part nine, if you can remember what it was I shall give you a gold star!**

Saboo eventually agreed to help them; he had to really, he was bound by Shamanic law to return the 'favour', but he still decided to turn the situation to his advantage – in exchange for his assistance, Naboo would have to help him try and regain his place on the Board of Shaman, as apparently he was on the verge of cursing every person who entered a Lidl anywhere in the country. Naboo wearily agreed, as even though he was unsure how he would persuade the Board, he knew he needed Saboo's help in bringing Tara back.

Vince and Naboo told Howard and Bollo what they were planning to do together. They were both rather taken back at first, and Howard in particular was sceptical, until Naboo explained how it was possible, and that Saboo had done it before. Naboo explained briefly what the spell would entail, and how they'd each have to donate part of their own lives to Tara. Naboo himself wasn't too clear on the finer points of this yet though, so the explanation was rather brief.

But once everything that could be explained had been explained, Howard and Bollo agreed almost immediately. They were on their way, although really there was nothing any of them could do at the moment apart from Naboo, who still spent a lot of his time shut in his room. At least this time they knew what he was up to – he spent hour after hour staring into his crystal ball in conference with Saboo, discussing the spell and trying to persuade Saboo not to throw in the towel on this.

No matter how hard poor Vince tried not to get his hopes up, he found it very hard to contain his excitement. He was still wearing black, perhaps an attempt to persuade the others that his hopes weren't as high as they truly were, but it was now combined with colourful cowboy boots, scarves, hats… he even took to wearing his red jeans again, simply and effectively combined with a silky black shirt.

Everyone except Naboo began to get back into their usual routine, shopping, watching telly, DJing.. Vince began painting again, creating fantastic worlds and creatures, one with umbrellas for legs so it could use them to skate over ponds, but keep dry by lying on its back with its legs in the air if it rained.

Eventually, Naboo emerged from his room to tell them that he and Saboo had gone over the spell completely, and now just needed time to prepare the ingredients, and they'd be bringing Tara back on the next new moon - three weeks away.

However, Naboo had neglected to tell them something else, something that he felt it was only his burden to bear. In order to earn the right to defy the natural order of life, he had to undergo dangerous mystical and physical trials, the details of which Saboo hadn't felt it necessary to spare him from. Naboo wasn't too worried – as he saw it, if there was a way to bring Tara back, he had to do it, whatever it entailed. He was confident in his own abilities. Any physical pain couldn't possibly match what he'd gone through emotionally these past few months. Could it? No, it didn't matter. Whatever it took, he'd do it.

As for why he hadn't told the others about it…he wasn't sure. To protect them, partly; he was sure they'd worry if they knew any tiny part of what Saboo had told him, they'd worry themselves sick. The more they talked about it, the more he'd dwell on it himself. Another reason was that he knew how selfless they all could be, especially when it was something important – some people may believe Vince to be self-obsessed and only concerned with his own welfare, because of how he looked and dressed, but Naboo knew that when it came down to important things, he was quick to sacrifice almost anything to help a friend in need. Naboo knew that they'd immediately volunteer to accompany him, and he couldn't possibly allow that, they wouldn't understand how dangerous it was until it was too late.

The first task was four days away.

**When I told Hannah that this kinda had an evil, dangly ending, she said she didn't like me any more. I hope none of the rest of you feel that way, please review!**


	22. The First Trial

**Thanks to my regular reviewers, and also to Koren, my newest reviewer, thank you very much, I woulda replied to your email had you left an adress!**

**Sorry this one took so long to write :( I've been super busy with college work, so I don't know when the next one will be up either. Ho hum.**

The next few days seemed to fly by, and soon it was Monday morning, the day of the trial. Naboo spent the day mentally preparing himself for whatever might be coming – he knew the trials would test his determination, focus, magical and physical strength and skill, but he didn't know which trial would test what, or even how many there were. Therefore, he prepared herself for everything possible.

At half past seven that evening, he announced to a barely-listening Vince that he was going out. The electro poof nodded in acknowledgement of Naboo speaking, then refocused his attention on '100 Sexiest fish' (BBC2 had really gone downhill lately), making the most of it before he knew he had to turn over because Howard wanted to watch that Michael Palin thing. To be honest, Vince preferred him in the Pythons to him talking about places he'd never heard of, but he didn't mind, it would stop Howard getting all grouchy.

He wondered where Naboo was off to. The last time he'd gone out, apart from when he'd been to see that Saboo, he came back really late, barely upright and reeking of alcohol, and stayed in his room for all those months afterwards. Vince hoped that that wasn't about to happen again, he didn't think they could afford that with the time to bring Tara back so near.

* * *

Naboo knocked on the door, and it was answered almost immediately by a hooded figure in robes of deepest purple. He breezed past, into the depths of the house, following the straight, dark corridor, until he reached the back door. He opened it and looked out at the impenetrable darkness outside, then stepped into it.

Through the portal, Naboo had arrived in a cave, dimly lit, although there was no apparent source of the light. Suddenly, voices spoke to him from the shadows. They all spoke at once, and although it was hard to determine, he judged there to be no more than seven.

'You wish to defy the natural order of life and death?'

'I do.'

'You feel unable to accept events as they stand?'

Naboo knew that he had to choose his words carefully here. Unfortunately, it made him sound rather wooden. 'I accept the events, but I do not accept that they're unchangeable.'

'You know what is needed to change them?'

'I do.'

'You are prepared to undertake any challenges and trials we produce, in order to change things?'

There was only a tiny pause. You wouldn't notice it, really. But it was there. He'd do anything – he just didn't know what the 'anything' was. 'I am.'

'Very well. Then the tasks begin.'

All went silent.

He heard a slight noise to his left. Turning, he saw Tara stood there.

'Hi Naboo.'

Seeing her wearing that Scumbag College t-shirt of hers, he immediately thought of a quote from the Young Ones – 'Not yet, but I soon will be'. Staring into her eyes, memories flooded back, particularly the time when she'd completely freaked out when Naboo had revealed that he'd partied with the cast of said comedy greatness. He smiled at her. It wasn't her. Not really. But he smiled anyway.

It wasn't her because this was part of the task, she was an illusion. Not real, not Tara. _Not real, not Tara, not real, not Tara.._

Oddly, another Tara appeared to his right. 'Hi Naboo.'

Another one, and another. 'Hi Naboo' 'Hi Naboo.'

More Taras appeared, totalling around twenty. Naboo surveyed them, wondering what this first task was supposed to be.

They were looking expectantly at him. He nodded to them. 'Tara…s'

'Who do you love the most?' they asked together.

Looking around at each of them, he saw subtle differences, slight inaccuracies, hair too long, or eyes just the wrong colour. He realised then what he had to do – find the 'real' Tara, the most accurate one.

The Tara's were drawing closer to him, looking at him in a way her knew very well. They began pawing at him, whispering softly into his ears, 'do you love me Naboo?' 'do you love me Naboo?'.

Trying to fight off their non-too-shy hands as best he could, he studied the Tara directly in front of him, and spotted a few freckles that he knew didn't belong there.

'You aren't Tara' he told her, pushing her aside. As he did so, she gasped, and changed from looking almost like Tara to a strange hag-like creature, the like of which he'd only ever seen before in books. Confident now that this was what he needed to do to sort through all the Tara's, he took hold of the next one and held her arms to her sides, staring intently at her, trying not to get turned on by the look in her eyes, and the tongue belonging to whichever other Tara it was in his ear.

Her face looked like Tara's. Managing to escape the clutches of the others, he put his arms around her, then released her again quickly – she didn't feel like Tara. 'You're not Tara.' She too gasped as he cast her aside, then fell to the floor in her true form and crawled away.

He worked his way through the others, discarding some but coming back to others, until he was left with only three.

They were all very similar. All very like Tara, from her dark brown hair to her tatty red converses. On the surface, they were all her. There was nothing for it. He'd have to undress them.

As though they sensed this, they were looking at him in that way again, running their hands down their own bodies this time, and beginning to strip for him. Two of them moved closer to him, placing his hands on their bodies, wanting him to help undress them, while the other just stood and looked at him, smiling sultrily as she removed all her clothes alone. 'You're not Tara.'

Now there were just two Taras left, and trying to find differences between them was very difficult when they kept kissing his neck, rubbing themselves up against them, and trying to get one of his hands to unhook a bra while the other was undoing a button.

Its very difficult for a man to try and focus on anything else when two beautiful women are undressing themselves, and him, pressing up against his body and letting their hot breath graze his skin, especially when both of them are technically his girlfriend.

_Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day, Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day_. Luckily he didn't have a lot of trouble imagining this, due to an unfortunate accidental witnessing of said phenomenon on a rather gusty summer's day back in the eighties.

He turned his attention to the one on the left, who was trying to get him to pull her trousers from her. He put his arms around her waist, feeling the smooth skin of her waistline, perfectly even and soft. He pulled back from her. 'You're not Tara.'

Ignoring her gasp and transformation, he turned to the other one, feeling for the scar on her back from when she was younger and told Vince that she thought Bowie was scary and he pushed her into a tree, not noticing the branch protruding from it. Tara had once told him that she was sure it wouldn't have scarred if she hadn't kept picking at it.

He looked into her eyes. 'You're Tara.'

She smiled softly and leant forward to kiss him. Before her lips reached his however, she shone briefly with a golden light, then quickly faded into nothing.

He was left alone with the disembodied voices, who briefly congratulated him on his focus and intimate knowledge of the woman he loved, and informed him that his next task would be in five days.

A door appeared in the middle of the chamber, and had Naboo been less nervous before the task, he would have recognised it as the back door of the house he'd arrived here through. However, as he stepped through it he found himself not back in the corridor of that mysterious house, but standing outside the front door to the flat, clothes all rumpled and glad that his journey home was so short.

**Just like to take a moment here to credit Austin Powers, which is where 'Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day' comes from, as well as all the Taras sounding a little like the fembots (although I didn't notice this connection until I was halfway through writing this!). The fact that they changed is also partly inspired by the Veela in Harry Potter, and Naboo's trials are partly inspired by Spike's in Buffy. Reading that list, you may think that actually I didn't make any of this up myself at all, but I did really, 'onest guv'ner!**

**Please review!**


	23. The Second Trial, and Food Love

**Thanks for reviews, also a big thankaroony to Helen for beta-ing for me, and also to Hannah for suggesting the Ozzy Osbourne thing. **

'Howard?'

'Yeah?'

'D'you think food can fall in love?'

'No Vince, food can't fall in love, what on earth are you talking about?'

Vince pointed to the screen of Tara's laptop, where a cartoon sweetcorn's speech bubble read 'No, peas, peas don't leave me!'

* * *

'This task will test your skill at creating potions, in spite of.. certain circumstances. You'll have up to forty minutes to produce an antidote.'

Silence, again.

All around the cave walls appeared shelves and shelves of potions ingredients, while on a table in front of him appeared a cauldron and a small cup of acid-green potion, which he recognised immediately as a confusion concoction. He tried to walk up to the shelves to inspect the ingredients, but found that he could only take three steps in any direction – the exact distance from his original position to the potion. It was obvious what he had to do first.

He grabbed the cup and downed the potion in one, hoping to locate the correct ingredients and start the antidote before the confusion concoction took effect.

* * *

'Vince, cartoon's aren't life, in the similar manner that food is not capable of love!'

'Why not?'

'It's food Vince, it's not capable of conscious thought or emotion in the same way that a cushion isn't!'

This was just one of the many things Howard had been wrong about in his life (other things including 'just because it's come from a freezer that recently defrosted itself for no apparent reason, doesn't mean it'll give you food poisoning', 'there must be at least one woman in here who'd be interested in a Jazz Maverick like me' and 'dogs can't look up'). Cushions frequently fall in love, sometimes with each other but more often than not with the person/pet/week-old sandwich pressed up against them, and dedicate their small time with their beloved to making them as comfortable as they can.

He was however, (as far as this author knows) right about food not falling in love, and therefore the rest of the discussion has been included solely for the purpose that I needed something to pad out the chapter.

* * *

The potion acted swiftly, and he was having trouble keeping his mind on the job. Confusion concoctions worked by attacking the attention span, meaning that the drinker's mind kept jumping from topic to topic, forgetting what it was they were supposed to be doing and where they were, giving them the appearance of a highly confused individual.

He tried to remain focused by thinking of what he was doing this for, thinking of Tara, but that just led his mind all sorts of unhelpful places.

* * *

'Food might be capable of love, just because you haven't met a vegetable or whatever that hasn't stole your heart yet!' He grinned cheekily.

'Well Vince, that's as maybe, but still, food can't fall in love!'

'That's highly vegetablist Howard.' Said Vince, putting on his rarely-used serious face. Howard didn't look amused. 'Alright, alright, whatever. I'm not sure about the 'conscious thought thing though.'

'….why?'

'You clearly don't have to be conscious to love. Just look at Ozzy Osborne, he's been married to his wife for years and they have a loving relationship and he's NEVER conscious!'

* * *

Ok, that was it, an excellent clarity potion. _I think._ Only one way to find out though, so he gulped it down, and felt a wave of coolness envelop his body, calming the confusion and bringing him properly back to his senses.

'You have proven that you can keep your head despite the odds. Well done. Your next two tasks shall be combined, and take place in ten days time.'

_Ten days?_ Thought Naboo. That was a long time for a task. He wondered what they were planning.

**I'm feeling a bit 'bleh' about this chapter... hopefully the next one'll be better. Please review!**


	24. Final Trials

**Yes indeedyo, I'm FINALLY back! Really sorry it took me so long to update, I've been plagued by college work and Le Block (thats writers block, not constipation, eeew). So, just a few things to say, one - thanks as always to Helen for beta'ing this for me, two - wooh for Susan Turnbull, Modwolves pack leader, for appearing in the boosh documentary on Radio 1 the other night, didn't she do us proud folks? And finally three - again, sorry this has taken so so long, but it is now on its fourth page on Word, so its a nice long one (ooer).**

Naboo stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Honestly? He didn't look too good. Exhausted was probably the world. It felt so strange to have the bed all to himself for such a long time, he still wasn't used to it… plus of course, he was stressed from worrying about getting the spell to bring Tara back exactly right, and his upcoming tasks.

The tasks, his last two, were tonight. He didn't know exactly what they would entail, Saboo had been unable to tell him and the voices before and after each task didn't tend to elaborate. He assumed that tonight would involve some kind of physical endurance, for as far as he could tell, he hadn't been tested on that yet…

Ok, so he was worried. Naboo would be the first to admit that he wasn't a particularly tall or muscly man, and even though he'd passed the previous two tasks, they weren't exactly a walk in the park.

But he'd do it. He'd have to. This was the only way there was to bring Tara back, properly, without her craving the taste of human flesh. He'd do it. He'd have to.

* * *

'The vase you see at the end of the cavern is vital to your spell – without this, your spell will not be a success. Your task is to pass the obstacles and obtain the vase'

'What are the obstacles?' Asked Naboo.

'Your two obstacles will be physical and magical. They do not and cannot overlap.'

'….what does that mean?'

'You will see. Good luck.'

Silence again. He felt, more than heard, movement in the cavern. On the wall to his left, about ten feet from the floor, a sword glimmered in the dim light as it emerged from the stone itself. On the other side of the cave was a larger, more menacing movement.

A large and ancient demon, which Naboo recognised as a Kranak, emerged from the shadows and roared at him.

'Shit.' (Said Naboo, not the demon)

Kranaks were fast, and tough. He didn't know how he'd be able to stay alive for five minutes with the demon, let alone out-physically-endure it.

_Think_

The demon ran towards him.

_Think faster._

Too late. Before he'd moved out of the way, the Kranak was there. It slammed into him and kept running, until it slammed poor Naboo into the wall.

He screamed. _Everything_ hurt, he'd cracked his skull, his back, his elbow, everything, against the hard, cold stone. The Kranak roared again and grabbed Naboo by the front of his robes, lifting him into the air and throwing him across the cavern.

Trying not to black out, Naboo focused on a strangely bright light above him. Looking around, he rolled out of the way of the oncoming Kranak, and recognised the source of light as the sword on the wall, reflecting the glow from the cave beyond.

Of course. According to the 'Demon, Beast, Sprite, Spirit, Lesser God and Other Things You Might Encounter But Who Knows You Might Get Lucky Handbook', '_The ancient and deadly Kranak is quick, and strong. If you're planning to come into contact with one, here's one word to bear in mind – don't. It isn't worth it. Go to the beach or something instead. If you absolutely have to meet one, or god/evil overlord/all-powerful moth forbid, have to fight one, you're probably best off with a club, or a sword, or something like that.. what do I know, you think I've ever fought one? No-ones gonna read this anyway.'_ Granted, the Demon, Beast, Sprite, Spirit, Lesser God and Other Things You Might Encounter But Who Knows You Might Get Lucky Handbook could be somewhat unreliable and half-arsed, one of the quotations on its cover was 'alright, but you're probably better off with something else', but Naboo found it handy for quick reference – lots of his ancient books were very wordy, and not all that good for at-a-glance reading.

Now all he had to do was get the sword. Five foot three Naboo, sword ten feet up on a slippery cave wall. Hmm.

The Kranak landed heavily on Naboo, knocking all the breath out of him as he struggled even to think. The weight was unbearable, he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe, darkness was enveloping him….

* * *

'Howard?' said Vince quietly behind him.

He turned to see Vince fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt. 'Yeah?'

Vince turned those big blue eyes of his towards him. 'D'you think.. what we're gonna do, with Tara, its…. It's the right thing to do, isn't it?'

'You're having doubts?'

Vince shrugged a little. 'Its just… what if it doesn't work right? If it goes wrong because it's not how things are supposed to go?'

Howard studied him for a moment. He could tell what sort of answer Vince wanted to hear, for he was wearing his 'please tell me its going to be ok' expression, the same one he wore when Sammy the Goldfish lost a fin when the little diver in the tank came alive and went after him with mysteriously acquired ninja stars, or when he'd heard rumours on the internet that bell-bottoms were making a comeback the week after Bollo had put all of his in the charity bag.

Howard sat next to him on the sofa and handed him his tea, before thoughtfully taking a sip of his own. 'If anyone can get this right, it's Naboo. And even though he loves Tara as much as he does, he'd never do something that he knew was wrong.' He put his hand on Vince's shoulder. 'It's the right thing to do Vince. We'll get Tara back, don't you worry.'

Vince nodded a little and turned back to the episode of _Buffy_ he'd been watching.

* * *

…And suddenly it was gone. The Kranak had backed off, just as it looked as though it was about to win. Before Naboo had time to contemplate this however, the Kranak had lifted him to his feet and swung one if its huge fists, smacking Naboo in the mouth and sending him reeling across the cavern again.

The Kranak was lost in the shadows again, as Naboo tried desperately to think as he gasped for air. It could've killed him, kept him pressed against the floor until he stopped breathing for good, but it didn't. Could it be that it wasn't supposed to kill, just keep fighting until its opponent either won, or gave up? Strange sort of Kranak demon if it was, but nevertheless it was a thought that Naboo clung to as he saw it erupt from the shadows again.

He rolled out of its way and his eyes fell once again on the sword in the wall, as an idea struck him.

He ran over to the wall, standing directly beneath the sword and waiting for the Kranak to charge again. When it did, he waited until the last moment, then dropped to the floor, diving between the beasts' legs as it slammed into the wall, then quick as a flash he was up, leaping onto its back and reaching up for the sword while the Kranak was still recovering from running into the wall.

His fingers grasped the cold metal and held on tightly as the Kranak staggered back and hurled Naboo off of its back. Being very careful not to land on the pointy end of the sword, he fell to the floor but was up in an instant, turning to face the Kranak with his new weapon.

He was exhausted, but he had to keep fighting, he was almost there. Although, he had another task to complete after this one. He wondered what the next one would entail.

The Kranak stormed towards him once more, apparently unafraid of the sword. Naboo raised it above his head and sung it at just the right moment, catching the Kranak in the neck and severing its head from its body.

The corpse fell to the ground and the head landed neatly on top of it with a dull thud. Naboo tutted as he found drops of mud-like liquid onto his robe – demon blood was murder to get out.

His breathing was heavy and painful, and he bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to recover. He could feel hot, sticky blood soaking into his robes at the back of his neck, and there was another cut on his lip, as well as bruises all over his body.

He sighed, and stood straight. Setting off towards the glowing cave for his next task, he found that he still had the sword in his hand. He kept hold of it, even though the voices had told him that his two tasks didn't overlap, he'd learnt from past experience that mysterious disembodied voices didn't always mean what they said, or say what they meant.

The light glowed more strongly in this little cave, and there was a distinct line where most of it stopped, and the larger, outer cave was darker. As Naboo crossed this threshold, the sword in his hand shone briefly before dissolving into dust, leaving only the handle in his hand. So much for that idea then.

He sighed and dropped the handle on top of the small pile of dust, and advanced into the cave. The first thing he noticed was that the vase he'd seen in here earlier, was missing. In its place on the stone platform, was a scroll of paper reading simply 'find it within yourself.'

Naboo frowned. Within himself? What was that supposed to mean? He looked around the cave, which was empty. There had to be something! And, suddenly as the shopkeeper would appear in Mr Benn, there was. No sooner had he thought that the vase had looked handmade, of clay, when a ball of clay appeared in front of him.

Remembering that the mind was the most powerful magical tool, he looked around, then decided to test his new theory, imagining for some reason a ludicrously patterned oven glove, which appeared on the floor to his left. He'd have to use his imagination to create what he needed to find the vase within himself – within his own imagination.

Deciding that it was worth a shot imagining some confirmation of whether his idea was right or wrong, and immediately another scroll appeared floating in front of his face. It read 'you must use your own magical energy to create the vessel for the spell. The vessel can only be used for your own spell, as it is personal to you, created solely by you.'

That was that then. With a glance, he created a bowl of water with which to help shape the clay, then set about making a pot. Thinking of Tara as he sculpted, his hands gently pulled the clay, smoothing and shaping it, pouring his soul into it. He was so distracted that he didn't notice just how much energy he was putting into it – the magic that flowed so freely through him was being concentrated into the pot, and escaping from him.

He'd finished sculpting the vase now, but it was too plain. Tracing his fingers lightly over the surface, he whispered blessings to help the spell work, which appeared painted and engraves on the surface in silver.

He stepped back, looking at it properly. It was a rather beautiful thing – smoothly sculpted, from a wide base to a long narrow neck, with the silver writing gleaming in the soft light, and an unexplained blue tinge, visible only when you weren't looking for it.

'Very good' said the voices unexpectedly. 'It clearly shows the love you hold for she who is lost.'

'Thank you.' He replied quietly. Naboo was exhausted, and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep, forget about the pain coursing through his body.

'You have satisfactorily completed the necessary tasks, and have permission to return life to the dead. Good luck.'

Naboo nodded gratefully.

* * *

Vince and Howard had been waiting up watching the television, but were beginning to tire. Just as they got up, deciding to go to bed, the front door opened and closed downstairs. Naboo took longer than usual to climb the staircase, and looked awful when he reached the top. His sleek and shiny hair was matted and dull, his turban askew. His face was bruised, he moved stiffly, and his usually colourful and beautifully embroidered robes were now plain, and a washed-out bluey grey.

He was clutching a large vase to his chest as though it were the most precious thing in the world. He placed it carefully on the table, looked slightly unsteadily at them, stated 'we're ready', and collapsed on the sofa.

**Please review, my lovely lovely people!**


	25. The spell

**FINALLY, the new chapter is up! Its been ages I'm sorry, I do have excuses but they're inexcsusably rubbish so we'll just skip past that part. Speaking of parts, this is 25, and thats just of this fic, not the whole Tara series, can you believe it?! If you've stuck with it this long, I take my hat off to you. Well, I don't actually have one on at the moment, I had one on earlier but I took it off, so we'll just say I took that one off to you and everyone's happy.**

**So, the fic. Thanks muchly as always to Helen who beta'd for me, and also to Beth for pointing out that Leroy (who, as you will see, features in this chapter) may in fact not be magical in the show - well, he is in this. And he owes his newfound magical ability to me, so he'd just better bloody watch it. That last bit was supposed to be said in a Rik Mayall-esq kinda way, but that's largely irrelevant to pretty much everything so let's get on with it.**

Vince, Howard, and Bollo sat in silence on the sofa, waiting. Naboo had left the flat on the carpet over an hour ago, first to pick up Saboo, then to retrieve Tara's body.

Tonight was the night. They were going to bring Tara back.

Naboo had told them what the spell entailed, what they'd have to do, but he didn't tell them how long he'd be. So they waited. Strangely enough, their wait has been recorded as one of the all-time most nerve-wracking waits in history, after that of Hugh Pompsy-Huntington, who waited for three months for a reply to a letter sent proposing marriage to his sweetheart, before finding the letter in an old jacket pocket and realising that he'd actually posted a list of possible locations of his many missing socks.

The doorbell rang, and they all jumped rather amusingly. Recovering first, Bollo went to answer the door, and found Vienne waiting in the dim light outside. It was the small hours of the morning, and as the spell had to be performed at dawn, it was still dark outside.

'Hello Bollo.' She smiled. Even though Bollo had no special powers of his own, he could feel the apprehension surrounding her in a tight bubble. He smiled gently back, (or as gently as a large talking gorilla could manage) and bowed a little as he let her in. They'd called her knowing she'd want to know what they were doing, and would probably want to be involved, but also because the more people that were in the spell, the more firmly Tara would be tied to life.

As she reached Vince at the top of the stairs she hugged him tightly, then did the same to Howard, who was hovering awkwardly by the sofa as usual.

'Naboo?' She asked.

They shrugged. 'Soon, probably.' Said Howard.

They sat on the sofa. And waited.

* * *

Naboo and Saboo were on their way back. Tara's body was wrapped in the shroud, which, because of it's magical properties, was still its pristine white, the embroidery still glowing a little from the restoration spell they'd performed at the graveyard, protecting Tara's body until they got to the flat. Naboo was more than grateful for the shroud when they'd removed Tara from the ground – seeing her dead was bad enough, but after she'd been buried for five months? Unfortunately seeing Tara like that wasn't all he'd had to do. Just as she'd once (somewhat unknowingly) restored his energy when he'd been drained by fighting Elsie by kissing him, he had to restore her body by channelling energy into her through a kiss. Not wanting to see her face in whatever state she was in, he simply eased back the part of the shroud covering her mouth, tried not to think too hard about what he was doing, and planted his lips on hers. He felt the earth's healing energies flowing through him and into her, restoring her body to its full beauty.

On the carpet, Naboo thought about what a long time five months really was, especially as he hadn't been able to do anything much for the past couple of weeks – his tasks had all been completed and everything was ready, but they'd had to wait for the stars to align. Tonight was the night.

He remembered how nervous he'd been before the first task. That was nothing compared to how he was feeling now; it was like comparing the quality of humour in 'Married with Children' with that of 'Fawlty Towers' (not that your author is at all bitter about any tasks set in Media Studies A-level in _any_ _way_). When Naboo had told Saboo that he'd completed the tasks to bring Tara back, he'd looked greatly surprised, but acted highly out of character and didn't say anything, for which Naboo was grateful.

They circled in over the flat, and hovered next to Naboo's bedroom window. Between them they managed to gently carry Tara into the flat, and onto the table she'd been laid out on five months ago.

Before they could begin the spell to actually bring Tara back however, they had to cast a memory modification spell, to make the world forget that Tara had been dead for all this time, otherwise it could 'throw up all kinds of problems that I just don't want to have to deal with', according to a weary Naboo.

'So everyone's just gonna forget?' asked Vince.

'Everyone outside this room, yeah.'

'Except the Board of Shaman.' Added Saboo, eyeing Naboo with slight suspicion, as though he somehow expected him to try and pull a fast one or something.

'Oh right yeah, the board will still know, they can see through all sorts of masking spells. Apparently you wouldn't believe the stuff coming off of Downing Street. But this spell just helps people forget stuff that they don't really want to know anyway, or don't care about – so people forget that someone close to them has died, or banks forget that someone has been crossed off their lists.'

The spell was quick and easy for Naboo and Saboo to perform, relying as it did on people's wish to forget the bad things in life. The others felt more than saw a circular wave of energy quickly burst outwards from the centre of the room and out through the walls, presumably to alter the world's memory.

Saboo eyed the others, then retreated to Naboo's bedroom where his own carpet was waiting outside the window; it had been fitted with a homing device so that it was summoned whenever Saboo flicked the feather in his hat in a particularly pretentious manner.

'You're leaving?' asked Naboo, who had followed him in.

'You know I cannot stay if I'm not a part of the spell.' Naboo nodded. 'Remember Naboo – once the spell is begun, it should be done perfectly, and most important of all, _uninterrupted_.'

'I know.'

Saboo stood regarding him for a moment longer, a strange look on his face. 'Good luck, Naboo.' He turned and swept quickly towards the window.

'Saboo-' Called Naboo, causing the taller shaman to turn, one leg hanging out of the window, giving him the look of a sixteenth-century cat burglar. 'Th-thank you.'

Saboo nodded briefly, then flew into the night, a shadow against the rapidly lightening sky.

The others were waiting for him, and he silently indicated to Vince to help him unwrap Tara's body. The process was similar to when they originally wrapped her, only backwards. The restoration spell worked well, and Tara looked just as she had when they'd first wrapped her, looking as though she was asleep, only far paler than usual.

Naboo glanced out of the window, and saw that the sky was quickly approaching dawn, the time at which the spell must reach its end at, and felt glad that they'd prepared everything beforehand. It was time to begin.

* * *

Leroy wandered the streets, bored. There was never anyone around this time in the morning. The only reason he was up was because of an accident years ago with an untested potion and a cup of coffee, the result of which being that he needed only about three hours of sleep a week, which he usually chose to take on Sunday afternoons, as there was really nothing else to do during that time. One of the unfortunate side effects of the accident was also that once a month he turned into a llama with green hair and a strange smell of cabbage, but he strangely chose to combat this with a large and slightly effeminate hat, and no-one bothered to question him about it.

Wandering through the empty streets, he wondered if Naboo was awake – the Moomins would be on soon – and if he would be interested in a game of 'replace the feather on Saboo's hat with something ridiculous.'

* * *

They assembled silently around the table where Tara lay, Bollo and Vienne at her feet, Vince on her right and Howard at her left. Naboo stood at her head, and lifted the vase from his last task. He held it aloft over Tara, then slowly took his hands away from it. The vase stayed hovering in the air, spinning very slowly. He nodded for the rest of them to join hands, and once again used his mind to add ingredients to the vase, being careful to get the exact right amounts in the exact right order – the slightest thing going wrong would ruin the whole spell.

* * *

Leroy's breath misted in front of him, rising through the air in the dark shadows of the buildings. He crossed the street and pulled his dark cloak closer around himself in an attempt to shield himself from the eyes of a group of marauding chavs. It didn't work.

'Oi, you!'

He stopped, and turned. They crossed the street towards him, fanning out and reminding him of David Attenborough documentaries. _The alpha male leads the pack towards their prey, as the less dominant members surround the poor unfortunate who is about to undergo the discomfort of conversing with those of an unimaginably lower mental capability._

'Yes?'

'What you looking at?' asked the leader (who was sporting a rather distracting monobrow) aggressively.

'I believe I'm looking at the person who addressed me. Is this not so?' Leroy liked to talk a little more eloquently than usual when conversing with chavs, but wasn't sure why.

'You givin' me cheek man?'

'Not as far as I'm aware, why?'

'You better not be givin' me no cheek man, that's disrespecting me yeah?'

Leroy had been getting bored wandering the streets, and although the chav mob had provided a brief distraction, he was now bored with them too, and decided to deal with them. 'Well sir I certainly didn't intend to give you 'cheek', but as you seem to be so fixated on it..' he clicked his fingers with a flourish, and the faces of all the chavs became nothing but cheeks. Bum cheeks, to be precise.

* * *

The vase was now half full with a deep swirling liquid, the presence of which was slightly inexplicable to the others seeing as how most of the ingredients Naboo had added were power- or plant-based, but that's magic for you.

Vince, Howard, Bollo and Vienne had each learnt parts of the spell as cues to when they had to do what, like actors learning lines except this was oh-too-real. And there was no retake if one of them corpsed, if you'll excuse the poor choice of words there.

'…Kaluka mashu ryvita…' chanted Naboo, their cue to release each others hands and pick up the small bowls that were in front of them, as well as a small item they'd each been asked to find, something that represented their relationship with Tara.

They held the bowls up in front of them, in a manner which would have been slightly comical and reminiscent of 'Oliver' had the occasion not been so solemn. Naboo tilted the vase telekinetically, pouring out an equal amount into each bowl. He chanted the next line of the spell, their cue to drop their items into their own bowls.

Vienne hadn't had much trouble thinking of anything to use, it was just a matter of finding it. The identity bracelet given to Tara when she was born had been stored carefully in a metal box with other keepsakes. She'd wanted to hold onto it, but if it came down to that or having Tara back, there was no contest.

Bollo had struggled rather more, but eventually settled on an embroidered flower, cut from the shroud that he'd been the one to collect after her death. Tara was like a flower to him, innocent, full of life, and with deep roots in nature.

Howard, bless him, had chosen a teabag. Not because he was obsessed with tea or anything like that, simply because he associated the same things with tea as he did Tara. Warmth, comfort, reliability.

Ever the punk, Vince had chosen a safety pin. To him Tara was safety, and he hoped he meant the same to her – all these years, they'd done all they could to look after each other. The reason it was a safety pin of course, was that Vince also knew that Tara was not one you'd want to get on the wrong side of, however rarely such an occasion might occur.

Naboo dropped his heart-shaped glass bead into his bowl, and they each drank their potion, which was cold to the lips, but warmed quickly as they swallowed it. Each of them seemed to glow with a golden-white light for a moment, but the moment was so brief they wondered if they'd dreamt it.

* * *

This was Naboo's road. Studying the houses, Leroy's eye was drawn to one in particular, it there was soft light in the front window, although it was beginning to show up less because of the rapidly lightening sky. The sun would be peeping over the horizon in a few minutes. This was Naboo's house.

* * *

They each also had something with which to pierce their own skin; the final part of the spell was to donate part of their own 'lives', or blood, to be more precise, to Tara, to replace the life taken by the Fates.

They each set down their bowls and took up the razor or knife, looking to each other for their cue. As one, they took a deep breath.

* * *

A front door slamming down the road made him jump, and he turned to see a man clutching a briefcase and hurrying towards the tube station around the corner, glancing at his watch and swearing quietly.

Leroy laughed quietly, and shook his head at the absurdity of the world. He once more raised his hand to knock on the door, wondering if he should do it loudly or quietly – he didn't want to do it so quiet that it wasn't heard, but not so loud as to wake the whole house. Perhaps he should just unlock the door magically and let himself in, he was sure Naboo wouldn't mind. Yes, he'd do that.

What time was it? He didn't want to let himself into the apartment without Naboo being awake, Vince, Howard and Bollo were good blokes but he wasn't sure they'd be all too pleased about him wandering in uninvited at dawn.

Oh that was alright, it was half pas- his eye had caught the date, displayed on a little box on the right. The twenty-eighth. _Shit!_ This morning he had to be at the airport to pick up a visiting dignitary from his home planet of Koojip, neighbour to Xooberon, who was visiting London via Fiji. Sod Naboo and his Moomins, he had to run!

* * *

Chanting quietly together, they made cuts on their forefingers and held them over Tara – Bollo and Vienne's blood dropped onto Tara's feet, Howard and Vince's onto her hands, Naboo's on her forehead. The drops lingered on her skin for a few moments before glowing that same whitish gold, and fading into her. That was it. The end of the spell.

Vince looked around. 'It hasn't-'

Tara's eyes flew open as she inhaled suddenly and deeply, interrupting Vince rather rudely. Her eyes closed again, and for a moment they thought it was some kind of fluke, until they noticed her chest rising and falling gently.

She was breathing.

Tara was alive.

**Please review my lovely lovelies!**


	26. Too tired for a proper title

**Here we are then. This (probably) won't be a long A/N, because I'm bloody knackered and I have to go to college tomorrow (grr) and have to get early and so am going to bed after doing this. I wanted to get this done and uploaded tonight (one final hurrah) so I beta'd it myself instead of handing it over to Helen, so it's probably got some mistakes in there somewhere but bugger it. Thanks to Hannah and Beth for their help, I know I said the same about this one but the next chapter should be quite short so hopefully it won't be too long before its up.**

The sun had burst over the horizon the moment Tara had gasped like that, and now began its daily slog across the sky before it could creep down past the other side of the horizon and maybe sneak off to the pub for a bit.

In the flat however, the events were far less mundane and everyday. After the initial moment of shock, Vince had yelped Tara's name and thrown his arms around her, waking her up with a groan.

'Mmm.. wha.. Vince?'

'Mwrara!' came his muffled reply. Another moment, and the others had joined the hug, slightly squashing poor Tara. 'Um.. not breathing!'

Restraining themselves a little, they released her and threw their arms around each other instead as Tara sat up and rubbed her head, which, for the moment, overcome with joy, no-one noticed that there was something different about. 'What's going on?' A moment, and the memories came flooding back. Tara sat up. 'Vince! Fates! They-'

'Shh, Tara, it's ok.'

'Ok? Oh. I suppose so, here we are. Why've you changed by the way?' she glanced down at her own clothes. 'Why have I changed? What's going on, how did you save me?'

Guilty looks all around, but especially from Vince and Naboo. 'Yeah, um…'

Tara sought Naboo's hand and squeezed it, glad that he'd been unfrozen. _Or whatever the hell that was_.

He glanced at Vince. 'Tara… the Fates, they.. they control everything, once they make their minds up about something, there's no undoing it.'

Tara frowned at him. '…What d'you mean?'

This broke his heart. 'I.. we… didn't save you.'

'Wh…' she looked back to Vince, noticing Vienne behind him. Vince and Naboo looked at each other, hating this. 'Tara, that was five months ago. We…. Didn't save you, you… died.'

She regarded them. 'No..' she hopped off the table and brushed past them to Naboo's bedroom. Emerging a moment later, she cried 'where's my Red Dwarf calendar?'

Naboo grabbed her as she tried to find some other method of telling the date. 'Tara!' she looked into his eyes, biting her lip. 'Tara.. it's true.'

'…I died?'

'Yeah.'

'…Are you sure?'

In spite of himself, he smiled a little. 'Yes.'

'Oh. Right. Ok. But then…. What am I doing here? Is this some sort of weird afterlife that isn't quite so.. after?'

'We bought you back!' cried Vince. 'Well, Naboo did really, but we helped.'

She turned back to Naboo. 'Bu…. Why? How, I thought you said-'

'Yeah I know but.. we needed you back, and I found a way.'

'But..' she lowered her voice so only Naboo could hear her. The others took it as their cue to give them a moment alone. 'I don't understand, I mean, I'm happy I'm not dead and everything, but… why?'

'What d'you mean, why? You really think I could go on without you? Or that Vince could?'

Tara shrugged awkwardly.

Naboo cupped her face with his hand. 'Tara, without you… I couldn't….. we… look, it was just horrible, ok? But you're here now, so... you're here now.'

'I am.'

Naboo and Tara simultaneously wrapped their arms tightly around each other. Even though Tara didn't feel like she'd been away from Naboo for any time at all, she still loved him, loved his touch, his arms around her.

She heard him take a shaky breath. '….Naboo….. are you crying?'

A sharp sniff. 'No!... Allergies…'

She laughed into his neck, her breath tickling in the most beautifully tantalising way. 'I love you' he breathed.

'I love you' she replied.

He pulled back and kissed her passionately. 'God, I missed you so much…Here.' He sat her down on the wicker chair, took her hands in his, and got down on one knee in front of her.

Tara tried to suppress a noise of excitement – she did, after all, know what was coming – but was partly unsuccessful and instead ended up producing a sort of hiccup.

This attracted the attention of Howard, who nudged the others. The watched silently, with mounting excitement.

Naboo took a deep breath and gazed up into Tara's eyes. 'I wouldn't have thought it possible, but this time without you, and having you back again now, its made me love you more than ever. You're everything I've ever wanted, plus a few things I hadn't even thought about until I met you.

'You're so beautiful. You're talented, and funny, and so caring. I love how you think you can change the end of '_Romeo and Juliet'_ if you want it enough, and how you talk to food when you're cooking it. I love how you want to preserve everything, you take photos, paint the van, make journals… I love-' He suddenly remembered that there were witnesses to this proposal, and lifted himself a little to whisper something in her ear. They didn't catch what it was, but it caused Tara to blush violently and shush him.

'You're so.. amazing. I never realised how many people loved you until…until I'd lost you, but Tara, they don't love you like I do, it's impossible. I've led a long long life, and I've got a lot of years ahead. There's no-one I'd rather spend that with, than you. Will you marry me?'

Tara grinned, and for a split second, considered saying 'no', just to see the look on Naboo's face. But that split second was gone now, so, laughing lightly, Tara said 'yes!'

Naboo had barely got the ring on her finger before Tara had pulled him up and kissed him deeply. Meanwhile, Vince yelled excitedly and thrown his arms around the nearest person, who happened to be Howard. Deliriously happy Vince had even planted a kiss on him before poor (well, ok, not poor) Howard had managed to pry him off. Howard didn't even mind though- the occasion was far too happy for him to be worried about a little thing like that. Tara was alive, and engaged to Naboo. He was even too happy to feel mournful that young Tara was getting married and he didn't even have a girlfriend.

Bollo had found some champagne (whether or not Naboo had previously purchased it in expectation, or indeed whether it was leftover from a couple of months ago when Howard had been expecting to make it big as a stand-in musician with The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, but was kicked out for taking it all too seriously, was irrelevant). Where was I? Oh yes – Vienne was helping Bollo pour the champagne into glasses, and Naboo and Tara were still locked in an embrace.

'Oi, you two, that's enough!' cried Vince.

They broke apart, and joined the others in their celebration as Bollo handed them each a glass of champagne. 'Champagne for breakfast, this is a bit of alright innit?' remarked Tara, taking a sip and scrunching her nose at the bubbles.

Vince smiled, then frowned suddenly. 'Tara!'

She frowned back at him, a little bewildered. '…Vince! What?'

'Your hair, its different! Its got white!'

As the others wondered why they hadn't noticed this before, Tara went over to the mirror to have a look. There was indeed white in her hair. To be more precise, all the colour had gone from one stripe of her hair, near the front of her head. She ran her fingers over it as Vince appeared behind her. 'Don't worry about it Tara, we'll dye it, no-one'll know.'

'No, I quite like it.. I look like Rogue from X-men.' She smiled.

'But your hairs white, you'll look old or something! No-one has white hair anymore, not since _Buffy_ went off telly!'

'I'm gonna bring it back, white hair, just like this. I'll call it 'the polar bear stripe'. And then the polar bears would try and disclaim it because theirs is transparent and hollow. And I'll have to call it something else like 'the snowdrop slice', but it wont catch on because by then no-one'll care anymore.'

Vince smiled, then turned her round to face him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. 'I missed you.'

Tara squeezed him back and let him hold on for as long as he wanted. This was strange – everyone was telling her how much they missed her, and yet she didn't feel like she'd been anywhere. She felt awkward, like she should say she missed them too, but she didn't. She would have, but… she hadn't gone anywhere for crying out loud!

Vince finally released her, although she was immediately hugged by Howard, then Vienne, then Vince again, then Bollo. Eventually, she was able to sit on the sofa with Naboo's arms around her (the rest of Naboo was of course also in very close proximity), and was caught up on recent events, told that sorry, they didn't think they'd need to keep taping Robin Hood for her but it'd probably be out on DVD soon, and filled in on the 'details' of how they brought her back (although Naboo didn't seem to want to put too fine a point on what he went through with the Kranak, and the others took their lead from him).

All this took them through most of the day, during which they picked at food rather than actually eating proper meals. Naboo fell asleep against Tara in the early afternoon, and the others got rather drowsy too so Tara put the telly on and let them doze off. As the minute hand moved nearer and nearer to five o'clock, Vienne muttered, so as not to wake the others up, that she should probably be going, despite Tara's protests. She also declined Tara's offer of a lift, and said that she'd let herself out so the still-sleeping Naboo wasn't disturbed.

Tara waved goodbye over her shoulder, and promised to call Vienne soon. She watched Top Gear for half an hour longer, then decided that she should wake the others up so they'd still sleep through the night.

'Naboo. Naboo.'

He groaned, but didn't wake.

'Naboo, the flats on fire.' Nothing. 'I've died again.' Nope. 'Vince borrowed your turban for a party and someone got sick in it.'

'What?!' He jerked awake.

She smiled. 'Relax, you just wouldn't wake up.' She nuzzled into his neck, kissing it, and worked her way up along his jaw and finally to his mouth.

He kissed her back, moaning softly into her mouth with pleasure – Tara. This was Tara. Tara, who he'd been so worried that he'd never get back, get to see, to touch, to kiss. This was beautiful.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Naboo and Tara woke the others, who managed to stay awake with them for a few more hours, until they all went to bed early.

Tara found that although some of her clothes had been moved elsewhere, there were still a pair of pyjamas for her to wear to bed. She changed, and joined Naboo, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He felt the bed dip, and the warmth of her skin next to his. Perhaps she didn't need to know. She wouldn't, if he didn't say anything. Not tonight, at least, it.. it had been a long day, she'd had a lot to take in already.

But no. If he didn't tell her now, he might not ever, and he knew she had a right to know.

He sighed deeply. 'What's up?'

'I have to tell you something.' He took another deep breath and swallowed, preparing himself for the awful confession he was about to make. 'When you were gone, I… slept with someone else.'

He looked up at the ceiling in despair, wishing those awful words weren't so heartbreakingly true.

'…..What?' She whispered in disbelief.

He sighed. 'A few days after.. it happened, I completely lost it. I got totally off my face, I couldn't cope being alone, being without you.' A tear escaped from his eye. 'I don't know who she was. As soon as it was over, I knew I couldn't do it again, I only ever want to be with you, and I had to see you again, talk to you, and when you weren't in any of the spirit worlds I realised there might be a way to get you back.

'But I can't erase it, I can't take it back, and I'm so sorry, I wish I hadn't done it, I don't know why I- I'm sorry.' he finished sadly.

'You did it because you thought I was gone for good.' she said in a hollow voice.

'Yeah, and I'm sorry. I should've known I wouldn't be rid of you that easily.' he said, making her smile. At least that was something.

'No, I don't mean you gave up or anything like that. I meant that that was why you did it, you thought I wasn't coming back. You'd have moved on eventually anyway-'

'No!'

'- it was just sooner than… than it might've been. I think… I think.. I could understand that.' She could rationalise it all she wanted, and she was fairly sure she did understand that part, but the truth was that Tara was in a state of shock. But as they kissed, she saw his lips on a mysterious someone else's, his tongue in her mouth, his hands on her body…

She pulled away sharply. 'I can't, I'm sorry, I- I can't.' She ran out.

He fell back on the bed and stared at nothing, hating himself for what he'd done.

**Ooooooooooooh bad Naboo. Please review!**


	27. Restless Night

**Thanks for the reviews everyone, and thank you to Helen for resuming her role as beta-lady! Don't know when the next chapter will be I'm afraid, as always it depends on how much work I have to do and how inspired I am. Just a note to say, this chapter has strong language, so don't say I didn't warn you kiddies!**

Tara leant back against the closed door, not knowing what to do. She wanted so much to be with Naboo tonight, but she couldn't, not now. Where was she going to go though? She couldn't go in Vince's room, he'd go mental if he found out what Naboo had done - she assumed he didn't know already as Naboo still had all his limbs. She couldn't sleep on the sofa in case she was discovered by Vince.

She knocked on Howard's door. No reply. She cracked open the door and called his name.

'What?' came the sleepy reply as he shielded his eyes from the landing light.

'Can I… would it be ok if.. I slept in here tonight?'

'Sleep in here? Why-' he caught sight of her troubled face in the dim light. 'yeah.. Alright.'

She stepped in and closed the door behind her. Her voice came up from the darkness at the floor or her bed. 'Thanks Howard, I'll be gone in the morning.'

He switched on the bedside light. 'What are you doing?'

She sat up and peered over the edge of the bed at him. 'Going to sleep.'

'On the floor?'

'Yeah.'

He sighed. 'Don't be daft. Come on.' he said, indicating the bed as he moved to get out of it.

She stopped him. 'No Howard, I'm not throwing you out of your own bed, we'll share. Besides, then you'll have to find somewhere to sleep, and I don't want anyone knowing I'm in here.'

'Does Naboo know?' he asked, as they both climbed back into the bed.

'He knows I'm not in his room.'

'Why is that?'

She sighed. 'Not now Howard.'

He looked across at his young friend. 'Night.'

* * *

It had been a long day. Bollo knew that Naboo had had a longer and more tiring day than any of them; he'd been up earlier, had had far more work to do, more magic draining his energy, and, as deeply as Bollo and Howard cared about Tara, Naboo cared more, more than Vince even.

They were all glad to go to bed, to sleep. Bollo was drowsy, but he couldn't quite drift off. He had one of his bad feelings again. Something was wrong in the house.

* * *

_Shit._

_Bugger._

_Fuck._

He was such an idiot. What had he done? He'd ruined everything, probably. Tara wouldn't forgive him for this, why should she?

Why had he told her? _Ugh, don't think that_. He'd told her because it was the right thing to do, she had a right to know what a twat she'd just agreed to marry.

God, how he wanted to marry her. He'd never been that interested in settling down and getting married before he met Tara, but now he couldn't see a future without her, he wanted to look over his shoulder down the aisle and be able to see only her, to have children with her, grow old with her-

But he'd messed it up. So now he was lying awake on the bed, on _their_ bed, hating himself.

_Shit.

* * *

_

Should he say something? She must know he was awake. He knew she was awake. But then, perhaps she was too involved in what was keeping her awake to notice him awake.

Why was she awake? Was it a strange sort of shaman engagement ritual?

Somehow he didn't think so. She wouldn't have sneaked into his room so quietly if there wasn't something wrong. She wouldn't be jiggling her foot like she did whenever she was upset or worried about something. She wouldn't be taking those shaky breaths.

He should say something, try to comfort her. But he didn't know what, so he stayed quiet. And lay awake, next to her, feeling useless once again.

* * *

Tara fidgeted in the unfamiliar bed, trying not to think about what she couldn't help but think about.

_Just.. don't cry. Don't cry, because if you cry Howard will hear, and ask what's wrong, and you'll have to tell him, and it'll just be bad. So don't cry. Go to sleep, and get some rest. After all, it's not like you've been lying around a coffin decomposing for the past five months. While your boyfriend was out fucking another woman._

_Dammit, I said don't cry.

* * *

_

Vince slept soundly, content that all was well.

**Bad end to a good day there, except Vince, who will be the only one lucky enough to get a full nights sleep! Poor Tara, eh? And evil writer-person me, mwa ha ha ha! Tune in for the next chapter to see what happens in the morning, and of course, please review!**


	28. In The Morning

**Beta'd by me at 11:15pm while watching Shaun of the Dead (so there may be mistakes, apologies). Thanks for reviews guys, you're all lovely!**

Naboo had slept badly, when he had slept that is. He'd kept thinking that he should go and find Tara, talk to her, he'd even got as far as the door a few times, but as soon as he did he'd change his mind – if Tara had wanted to talk to him about this, she wouldn't have run out of the room as though someone had told her Johnny Depp was outside covered in chocolate spread. Or she would've come back to him.

So he waited until the morning. On his way to the kitchen, he saw Vince's door was open. Assuming that it was him Tara had run to last night, Naboo peeked inside for her, but the room was empty. Instead he found Vince in the kitchen, looking strangely happy.

'Where's Tara?' they asked each other. 'You mean she's not with you?' they asked again.

Luckily, Howard and Bollo entered at that moment, preventing Naboo and Vince from looking stupid any longer.

'Tara was with me last night.' Said Howard.

'What?!' asked Vince, more surprised and confused than he had been when he'd found out that Peep Show wasn't a documentary.

'No, not like- she just came into my room, to sleep.' He looked to Naboo. 'She said last night that she'd be gone in the morning.'

Naboo sighed, and slammed a hand against one of the cupboard doors in anger and frustration.

'What the hell's going on?!' Vince practically shouted. 'What was Tara doing in your room, why wasn't she with Naboo?'

'She didn't say.' Replied Howard, looking to Naboo. Bollo had been quiet all this time, and now his keen gorilla eyes had spotted a scribbled note next to the phone, and picked it up. 'Note from Tara.'

Vince and Naboo both reached for it, but Howard got there first.

'_Hi guys_

_I'm going away in the van for a little bit, I need to think about things. I'll let Naboo explain why. Don't worry about me Vince, I'll be fine. I'll give you a call when I'm ready._

_Tara x'_

Vince frowned at Naboo. 'How can Tara leave, I thought you said something about the spell binding her to you?'

'No Vince, its not like that. The spell binds our life forces together, but not in the way you think; they'll always be a connection, but that's to all of us, and mostly it means that as long as at least one of the four of us and Vienne is alive, Tara won't die, not a natural death anyway. There's nothing in it that'll keep her with me.'

'Alright. So why's she gone? Vince asked, his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation.

Naboo hung his head. They'd have found out at some point anyway, it might as well be now. 'D'you remember when I came home really late one night, really _really_ drunk?'

Vince thought for a moment. 'Yeah…..'

'That night I…. I'd been thinking about Tara, I couldn't face being without her. I was in this bar, barely on my stool, and this girl comes up to me and starts talking. I didn't think I wanted to talk, but I s'pose I did, I started telling her about Tara, how amazing she was… the girl was nice enough, but not too bright.'

He took another deep breath, wondering if he was about to die from repeated blows to the head with a chelsea boot. 'She was pretty slutty too really, I… I was really, really pissed, but I… ended up having sex with her.'

There was a stunned silence.

'What?' Vince's face hardened and his fists clenched.

Naboo looked up at him sadly, sensing that Vince wanted to punch him into the next millennium for what he'd done. 'Go ahead. I deserve it.'

Vince raised his arm. It is worth noting, at this point, that as Naboo's familiar, Bollo was supposed to defend Naboo whenever anyone looked like they were getting violent. But right now, he just… really didn't feel like it.

Vince was still looking at Naboo, ready to punch him, but then dropped his arm. 'What's the point? You've beaten yourself up over this more than I ever could. Just make it right, yeah?' He retreated to his room.

Naboo blinked a few times, surprised. When he turned, it was to see a fist flying at his face, the force of which sent him stumbling backwards over the sofa.

Howard stood over him, shaking the pain from his hand. 'I don't think you've beaten yourself up enough. Sort this out.'

Naboo nodded, raising his hand to his nose to try and stem the flow of blood.

**Don't worry, it's only a little bit of blood. Please review!**


	29. Tara

**Well well. The four guys had their own chapters each a while back, so I thought that it was only fitting for Tara to have her own, seeing as how all these stories focus mostly on her. So here is your first chance to see inside her head properly! Unfortunately, her head's a bit messed up at the moment because she's feeling very confused, the poor dear, so that's reflected in the writing - there's lots of commas, and her thoughts going backwards and forwards and stuff. So, when you're reading it, in the words of the lovely Eddie Izzard, 'pay a-bloody-ttention alright?'**

**Also, couple more quick notes - I don't own the genius of Catface. Sadly. Also, there's a couple of nods to previous stories in here, a gold star in the review reply of anyone who spots them! And of course, thank you to Helen for beating!**

I've been driving for hours now. I'm glad the guys told me yesterday where they'd stored the van. And that it was full of petrol, or I wouldn't have made it to that service station. I've come a long way really, London to Scotland. Up the motorway most of the way – it's fast, and you don't have to think much, which might not be such a good thing, actually, and I actually didn't want to not have to think about driving, if I was thinking about driving then I wouldn't have to think about what I'm trying not to think about, which is… no, I don't want to think about that.

I like it here in Scotland. I've come off the motorway now, onto the little windy roads, I like them. I should probably stop for something to eat.

I don't have any food.

I'm not actually hungry.

I'll stop anyway, it's about time.

It's stunning here, the mountains fall right into the lochs. Or perhaps the lochs rise right up to the mountains. Hmm.

Perhaps its time to think about it now. Ok. Take a deep breath.

I died. I don't remember being dead, or, for that matter, the dying bit itself, which seems odd to me because you'd think that of all things, dying is something you'd remember. If, of course, you were in a position to remember it, which, lets face it, I am.

So, I died, but on my first night once more amongst the living, I didn't sleep in my own bed, with the man I love, my fiancé, I guess, but instead in a bed with Howard. And, much as I love Howard, I hope it isn't some omen of the future.

I wonder if that's a house over there, or just a big rock. I think I left my binoculars at the flat.

I find myself thinking about when I'd been watching Romeo and Juliet with Naboo. God, it seems like yesterday, but it's months ago isn't it? Naboo gave me a happy ending to that. Are we gonna get a happy ending to this? _'And I'd never leave you'_ he'd said. But will I end up leaving him? Could I bear it? If I stayed with him, could I bear the knowledge of what he's done?

_He didn't cheat on you, you were dead, you can't cheat on someone if they're dead. _But…. I don't think its that I'm upset about, its.. I don't know what it is. I can't blame Naboo for what he's done, but at the same time I'm finding it so hard to forgive him.

Its just, thinking of Naboo with someone else, it kills me. He's supposed to just be with me, my Naboo, mine. Does that make me jealous and possessive and a bad person? Is Naboo the one who should stay away from me?

Guy who says he loves someone and wants to marry them, then has sex with someone else is a bad guy.

Guy who falls in love, wants to get married, loses fiancé, moves on, is an ordinary guy living his life.

So what's Naboo? He should just be the ordinary guy living his life, but it was so soon. The whole thing's so strange, if I'd have come back in five months or five years it would've been hard to adjust to, but if I'd have come back in five years to find out that Naboo had found someone else I might not have minded so much, he'd just be trying to live his life, but it was a one night thing and only a couple of nights after I'd died, and I think it's the soonness that's part of the problem.

My thoughts are so mixed up. I'll go and sit on the roof. I think it's good to sit on a roof when you're upset. You can look out over all the scenery and take stock of things.

I'm not sure why I chose to come up here. I wanted dramatic scenery. Something to distract me, if need be. All the peaks and troughs, hills and valleys, highs and lows reflects life really. My life's been all nice and high up recently (well…. 'recently' as I remember it anyway), but not always. There have been lows, and this is most definitely one of them.

My mobile starts to ring. I don't know why I brought it really, I don't want to talk to anyone. But you never know, it's certainly helped me out with stuff before. I pick it up and look at who's ringing, thinking all the while that 'Kyle's Mom's a Bitch' must be one of the most inappropriate ringtones I could possibly have.

That's the number of the flat. Sighing, I answer. 'I said I'd ring _you_ Vince.'

'But I wanna talk to you, see if you're…. how are you?'

'Kind've shit really.'

He sighs. 'Yeah, Naboo told us about… he's on his way to see you, by the way.' Now it's my turn to sigh. Vince keeps talking. 'I wanted to come too, but he said he wanted to see you alone.'

'I don't want to see anyone.'

'I know. But he needs to see you.'

I sigh again. This is so not about Naboo. Well, it is, really, a bit, but its something _I_ need to think about. Alone.

'He's devastated Tara, he's.. he'd do anything for you, you know that, you should've seen the mess he was in after that Kranak thing, he didn't tell you the half of it, really Tara, I couldn't believe he was still standing-'

I've got to stop him talking, or I'll be halfway back to London by the time he finishes his sentence. 'Vince, I- I appreciate you trying to stick up for Naboo or whatever, I do, and Naboo really would, he always- but I really think this is something I'm gonna have to decide for myself, y'know?'

'………Alright.'

'Thank you Vince.'

We both stayed silently clinging to our phones for a while.

'I'll see ya again soon though yeah, I mean, you're coming back?' his voice was almost pleading. Bless him.

'Yeah Vince, I'll come see you again soon, whether its to come back, or to.. get my stuff.' Dammit, I fought so hard to stop my voice breaking there. Some good that did.

'Tara…'

'I'll see you soon Vince.'

'I love you Tara.'

'I love you too.'

Pause. Click.

The quiet suddenly seems much heavier. Naboo's on his way. I wonder how long it'll take him to find me – he'll be able to sense me when he's close enough, I know, but I don't know where he'll think to look first.

That's it then, sit and wait. There's no point trying to avoid him, if he wants to find me, he will. Maybe I will have some lunch. Chocolates probably all-round nutrition isn't it? For women anyway. Not men. We need it more… different metabolisms. Yep.

I kill a couple of hours driving down to a shop and back for something to eat, and wishing I had my laptop with me – I have a strange craving for a Catface marathon.

There's a dot in the sky to the left. That's him, I know it.

The carpet stops in mid-air and he steps onto the roof of the van besides me. I kept looking straight ahead at the beautiful landscape, taking none of it in. 'Go home Naboo.'

'No. I waited four hundred and eight years for someone like you, I'm not giving up on this so easily.'

I don't say anything. What is there to say?

'Tara, I love you, please, just come home'

'No, I am, this- this is home,' I say, patting the roof of the van. 'It has been for a good few years, served me well, and I was happy, and never once heartbroken, until you came along, as it happens, so this… this is home.'

He reaches out to touch my hand. I flinch – ever so slightly, but its there, and he feels it. He pulls his hand away again.

I turn to look at him for the first time, surprised to see his nose all red and swollen, and the purple bruise reaching under his eye. 'What happened to you?'

'Howard punched me.'

'Howard?!'

'Yep.'

I have to ask. 'Not Vince?'

'Almost Vince. But he said that there was no point. Howard didn't seem to think so.'

I can't help it, I smirk a little.

He looks slightly hurt. Emotionally, I mean. That nose obviously hurts. 'Do you even still love me?' He whispers.

'Of course I do.' I say, without even having to think about it. 'I just.. Don't know if that's enough.'

'Please Tara, I love you, I need you, I can't imagi-'

'Enough with the Oscar speech Naboo, I know that.' Catching sight of the look on his face, I soften a little. 'That's not what this is about.'

'Then tell me what it is about, what I can do to make it better, I can't lose you again.'

Once again, nothing. We sit in silence for a while.

'Please talk to me Tara.'

'I don't know what to say Naboo.'

'Tell me what you're feeling.'

'I don't know what I'm feeling.'

'Then what do you know?'

'I know you're feeling sorry for yourself because the others are all pissed of at you.'

'What?! No, Tara, they can think whatever they like, it doesn't matter, I only care about you, what _you_ think!'

'I don't know what I think.' Apparently I don't know much at all today.

Another silence. A wanting, a need to know something keeps forcing its way to the front of my mind until I can ignore it no longer.

'How was she?'

'You can't honestly expect me to answer that.'

I look at him. 'Answer.'

He raises his voice a little in indignation. 'What, compared to you, you mean? How can I do that Tara, there isn't a comparison, its just a completely different situation! I love you, sex with you, every touch, the way we connect, its so amazing, because I love you and I'm so lucky to have you! But she was just some stupid, drunken mistake, it doesn't mean anything, it doesn't compare at all.'

I pause for a moment, thinking more about what Naboo hadn't said than what he had. 'She was good then?'

'Don't be stupid Tara, its not-'

'Oh yeah, good one Naboo, insulting me's really gonna help things.'

'Will you just listen? Fine, I don't remember a lot, but you wanna know, really, you wanna know? She wasn't bad.' Ouch. 'But it doesn't matter because she was nothing compared to you, she meant nothing, nothing because I love you!'

'We had sex before we said we loved each other, was that nothing?' Of course, I don't mean that. I know how much Naboo had cared about me then, and I know that I had never meant nothing to him. And it's because of all that that I hate how stupid and spiteful I'm being by trying to hurt him like this but I don't care, I'm upset and I don't care.

'Tara….' Having nothing to follow that, Naboo just let it hang there.

I want him to put his arms around me, but at the same time I don't wanna be touched.

He asks me when I'm coming back to the flat. _If _I'm coming back, more like.

'Tara?'

'I just need some time to think.'

'Think about what?'

'Just.. Stuff.' I looked at him. 'Please, Naboo.'

'Alright.' he nodded reluctantly. 'You know where I am if you..' he trailed off and leant forwards to kiss me goodbye. At the last second I turned my head, forcing him to kiss me on the cheek. He pauses for a moment, hurt by it, but places a gently kiss on my cheek anyway, before stepping onto the carpet and flying away.

God, I wish he would've kissed me properly and made everything better. It was my fault for turning away. It's just that I keep picturing.. it.. him, with… her.. and its.. I don't know why, it drives me crazy! That was a silly thing to say, I know why it drives me crazy, it drives me crazy because.. well it does anyway, and it makes me feel all weird and wrong, and just…. Bad. How can I be with him if I keep feeling like this? I.. I couldn't. So I couldn't be with Naboo.

Not with Naboo. Apart from him.

Could I do that? Leave him? I still can't make up my mind. I don't know what to think.

I lie staring at the sky, reduced in my despair to wishing for an answer written in the stars. Shame its still daylight.

**Please review!**


	30. Bread from the Bag

**Helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooomy leetle chickadees. Gold star to whoever recognises where that second bit's a quote from – no googling now, I'll know!**

**Anyhow.. it's been bloody ages hasn't it? Sorry about that, left you on a bit of a cliffhanger too, although I'd imagine you could guess what Tara would choose to do! Sorry it's been so long, I've been a tad distracted writing a Jack Sparrow fic – close your eyes and imagine and I'm sure you'll forgive me!**

**Before I let you get on though – was watching Scrubs earlier and something Carla said struck a chord with me for this, so here it is **_**'Every relationship is messed up. What makes it perfect is if you still want to be there when things really suck.'**_** So, can you guess what happens yet? Hehe. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially to violence4, whose review reminded me that yes I do actually have fics that are posted that need updating so I should leave Jack alone for a while (he's exhausted, poor chap) and get on with something. And this is that something. So scrape your eyes off and get reading.**

Two days later, Tara still wasn't back. The house was quiet and awkward once more, the happiness of her return feeling like a hazy dream. Luckily, Naboo had forgiven Howard for the punch, saying that he agreed that he deserved it, so they were back to being amiably awkward.

They were sat in the living room, watching the TV, everything silent except for the inane babble of Richard and Judy. Everyone had been so reluctant to leave the flat, in case there was news of Tara, they were now down to eating bread from the bag and dipping it in anything they could find that was runnier than bread – spaghetti hoops, gravy, melted camembert, and sherbet.

There was a knock at the door, which Vince went to answer. Tara was waiting on the pavement.

'Tara!' he pulled her into a tight hug, but she didn't hug back.

'Is Naboo in Vince?'

'Yeah, he's upstairs, come on-'

'No, um.. Can you send him down please?'

He pulled back, still holding her shoulders, and frowned down at her. 'Are you ok? Apart from that you obviously aren't I mean, but. Tara?'

Her usually cheerful face was solemn. 'Just send him down please Vince.'

He kissed her forehead lightly. 'Ok.'

He disappeared upstairs, and she stood alone in the street, hoping that the right words would come to her when she saw Naboo.

His eyes lit up as he saw her. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, apparently deciding to just let her talk.

She took a deep breath. 'You remember that I said I loved you but I didn't know if it would be enough?' He nodded. 'That was stupid. It's everything. I love you. And you love me. And I know you didn't mean to hurt me - how could you, I was dead, and you were upset, and pissed and everything. And I also know that you'd never do anything to hurt me on purpose… So on the one hand, I'm finding this really hard to get past and you're kind of a bastard, but on the other hand I was dead so I can't really blame you. So lets just leave it at I'm still hurt, but I love you and even just two days without you, wondering whether or not to come back drove me crazy, so um, yeah…. Here I am. I'm back.'

'You still wanna be with me?'

'Yeah.'

He grinned, relieved, and leant in to kiss her, but she stepped back once more. 'Yeah, um, I love you and I still wanna be with you and everything, but… thinking about you, with her, and everything, it's gonna take me a while to…'

Naboo nodded his understanding - while Tara was still distressed by mental images of him with that other woman, she wanted to take things slow again. If she couldn't even kiss him, how long would it be before they had sex again? He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, it didn't matter for now. He had Tara back, and that was all that mattered. He held out his hand, she took it, and he guided her back into the flat.

When they reached the living room, it was obvious that Howard, Vince and Bollo had been talking about them. They quickly broke apart their huddle when they saw the pair of them standing there, holding hands.

'Are- are you two..?' Vince ventured.

'Well, um, there's still some stuff we've gotta.. But.. Yeah.'

Vince let out a peculiar sort of squeal and rushed over, pulling both of them into a hug. It got to the point where he knew Naboo would be feeling uncomfortable, so he let him go and wrapped both arms around Tara instead.

She squeezed him back, grateful for the show of affection. She wished she could feel this comfortable with Naboo's arms around her, but she knew she couldn't, not yet. But this was Vince, her older brother, it was warm and familiar, and she was happy to have it.

He pulled back to look at her as the others chatted happily. The mood had lifted so much since Tara had entered, like turning on the radio to hear a song you always loved, which turns your bad day around completely.

'What was it that made you come back?' he asked her quietly.

Her eyes strayed from his to Naboo. 'I decided that… running away wasn't going to help anything, and I love Naboo, so I should be with him so we can fix this.'

Vince smiled warmly, and nodded his agreement. He guided Tara to the sofa and she sat next to Naboo, taking his hand, and he squeezed hers back gratefully.

Tara smiled. She knew this would take some time to work out, but she also knew that this was meant to be. It was where she was happy.

**Ooh, that could almost be an end to the fic there couldn't it? Don't worry though, it isn't. What it also isn't is anything except a continuation of the plot without much actual interestingness, but ah well, at least I updated for once.**

**Oh yes, almost forgot – the 'eating bread from the bag, dipping it anything runnier than bread' thing comes from the 'Monster' standup of the wonderful and pretty Dylan Moran. Please review!**


	31. Heavy Metal Giraffes

**Now, there was something I was going to say in this A/N, I'm sure, but I've forgotten, so hopefully it wasn't important. Thanks as always to Helen for betaing, and thanks to all reviewers, love you!**

The sun rose four times but interestingly enough only fell thrice, leading some to conclude that days were in fact imaginary and imagination was limited to days, therefore declaring unicorns real but the working week an utter sham.

Naboo and Tara were finding things difficult, as every time they got close Tara's mind would conjure an image of infidelity that distressed her and she'd have to pull away. She hadn't even been able to let him kiss her, the closest they got was a few pecks on the cheek and curling up together in bed and on the sofa.

Naboo could cope without sex - living for four hundred and six years, spending a lot of time alone, he'd had a lot of practice. But it wasn't about that, it was Tara that he wanted, just wanted to be able to touch her again, hold her, all of her. This, getting close to her and then having to let go, it was driving him crazy.

Not that Tara was faring much better. The frustration of not letting Naboo near her was tearing her apart inside, but so was what she saw whenever Naboo tried to kiss her, or more. She knew hardly anything about what had happened but her extensive imagination had invented all kinds of things that she really really didn't want to see.

Vince and Howard meanwhile, had been having some trouble of their own, with money, and were now involved in an argument about whether they should spend what they had on food or clothing.

'This is a once in a lifetime opportunity Howard, that hat's on offer to me for three hours then it goes to someone else, come on!'

'Vince a six hundred pound hat isn't a once in a lifetime opportunity for you, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity for the bloke selling it, he might never find someone daft enough to pay that for a piece of fabric held together with stickers of reels of cotton!'

'It's the style you're paying for!'

'I'm paying for nothing and neither are you, how did you think you were going to afford that, we're more broke than your hairdryer was that time you tried making meringue by pouring egg whites through it!'

'You were the one that suggested a pavlova!'

'I also suggested a whisk. But that's not the point Vince, the point is that we have no money, Fossil keeps cancelling our gigs, we already owe Naboo three months rent!'

'…Tara wont mind paying that..'

'No Vince, we've got to pay it, now we need some money, come on!'

'Alright, how about this – we invent a new kind of porridge.'

'…..Porridge.'

'Yeah, how about we use something better than oats, no-ones eating them any more, they're too heavy, no-one wants to start the day with a tummy full of them. How about right, we make rice all light and puffy and fill a bowl with that?'

'Vince – you've just invented Rice Krispies.'

'Oh yeah. Alright then, you think of something, you're so keen to spend money on food.'

'Check these out,' Said Howard, hurrying to the corner to fetch a briefcase.

'Oh, dear..' Muttered Vince.

'What's that Vince?'

'Nothing. What's in the case then?'

'These babies.' He opened the case to reveal a mass of colour, which drew Vince in immediately.

'Wow, what's that?'

'This, my friend, is a revolution in stationery accessories. The paperclip bracelet, smart, adjustable, adaptable, and perfect for those filing emergencies.'

Vince picked up one of the chains, made up of differently coloured paperclips, and admired it. 'These are actually pretty cool…'

'Thank you sir, when Howard Moon does accessories, he does them properly. I was thinking we'd sell these for about four euro a piece yeah, make a tidy profit.'

'That's good yeah, one thing though – what's to stop people just making their own at home for virtually nothing?'

Howard opened his mouth, then froze for a moment. 'Bugger.'

'Yeah. Nice try though Howard.'

Tara opened the door to her and Naboo's bedroom and joined them in the living room, then flumped onto the sofa. 'Hey guys.'

They looked at each other behind Tara's back. Although even Vince wasn't sure exactly what had been bothering them, they knew things still weren't right with Naboo and Tara, try though they might to sort things out. They didn't know what, if anything, they'd be able to do to help though, so once again, the plan was to try to carry on as normal.

'Hey,' Vince said, going to sit next to her on the sofa as Howard set about making tea. 'You alright?'

She sighed. 'Ish. Annoyed. Tired.' Tara had been having trouble sleeping, fretting about how she was going to sort things out with Naboo, who was currently out on Shaman business with Bollo. 'I was trying to have a nap in there but..' she sighed once again.

Vince put his arm around her, and she curled up against him gratefully.

'You'll get through it.' Said Vince.

'I hope so.'

'Hey, come on, of course you will. It's you two.'

Tara smiled, that simple statement giving her hope. Of course, she knew how fiercely protective of her Vince was, and although he'd been perfectly nice to _most_ of her past boyfriends, he'd still keep a close eye on them. She felt it was a testament to how good a couple she and Naboo were that Vince was urging her to keep pushing to sort things out with him, and of course a testament to how good a man Naboo was that Vince hadn't torn him apart, fed the pieces through a shredder, then fed them to the lions at London Zoo when he'd found out what Naboo had done.

'What were you two chatting about anyway?'

'Trying to work out a way of getting some money in, and paying Naboo the rent.'

'I can cover your rent for a bit if you want.' She immediately replied.

Vince looked at Howard in an 'I told you so!' way, but the Moustachioed One politely declined. 'Thank you Tara, but we couldn't ask you to do that.'

Tara shrugged. 'Fair enough. The offer's there if you want it though.'

'Thanks.' Howard replied. 'How do you have money to pay for us anyway, you don't have a job.'

'She sells paintings and stuff doesn't she?' Contributed Vince, turning on the telly.

'Actually,' said Tara. 'Haven't had too much luck on that front recently, being dead and all, but I think it's a thing of being here in London… I mean, I've got friends that'll get me spaces in little galleries and stuff, but for the most part people don't want landscapes of Cornwall and stuff here in London, they want new, original… what some might call pretentious, although I couldn't possibly comment, things. And I can do that, fantastical dream-like things, but the trouble with doing that is, like with anything creative, art, your music, people who write.. you've really got to care about it, pour your heart into it, or it just turns out rubbish, and if you're doing that all the time, it makes it hard to let go and let people buy it and take it away from you. So mostly I do landscapes and stuff that just get bought by American tourists who like how quaint England is.'

'Why don't you just get an ordinary job then, pack it in?'

Tara looked appalled. 'I couldn't do that!! Honestly Howard… that's like someone saying to you that some people think you're a bit weird for listening to jazz-'

'A bit?!' interjected Vince.

'Shush. A bit weird for listening to jazz, so why don't you just pack that in?'

'What?! No sir, I'm Howard Moon, jazz is in my blood, I breath it like oxygen, Howard Moon without jazz is like videotapes without messy labels, like John without Paul, like-'

'Howard, Howard, relax, it was just an example. That's exactly what I'm saying though, I don't want to give up painting just like you don't want to give up jazz.'

He nodded, trying to calm down. 'Right, yeah, sorry. So, what _are_ you doing for money?'

'Oh, my friend Nick works at Yawn FM, he said that apparently the traffic bloke's leaving-'

'James Jam?'

'Yeah, that's him, he's leaving, something about a bunch of Mafia shrews, so there's an opening and hopefully I'll be able to get in there, because I've got so much experience driving and knowing ways around queues and stuff.'

'Tara,' asked Howard, sitting next to them on the sofa and passing over their tea. 'Is it just me, or do you have a contact for every possible situation?'

She considered it for a moment. 'Well… I suppose. If I don't have a direct contact, I usually know someone who knows someone. Comes in handy I can tell ya.' She turned her head to look at Vince. 'Remember when we got attacked by those mechanical Eeyore's at Disneyland, I called Tigger Tom and he chased 'em off?'

'Oh yeah, that was mental!' laughed Vince.

* * *

Filled with warm tea, on a comfy sofa in front of the telly, with Vince's arm around her shoulder, feeling exhausted, it was amazing Tara didn't fall asleep before she did. She dozed against Vince for a good forty-five minutes, and gave him a good excuse not to help Howard get tea on, until Naboo returned home.

He looked as tired as Tara did, and nodded to them as he entered the living room, then his eyes fell on Tara. 'She's finally gone to sleep?'

'Yeah.' Replied Vince, glancing down at her. ''Bout three quarters of an hour ago.'

Naboo nodded. 'Good, she needs it.' He sat heavily next to Vince.

'Hang on.' He said, holding Tara close to him and hoping she wouldn't wake up as he shuffled forwards. 'You should take her.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, it's you she wants really.'

Together they managed to keep Tara comfortable and asleep while Vince stood up and Naboo took his place. Once they were settled, Tara snuggled closer to him and he laid his head on hers. As tired as she was, he soon fell asleep too.

When Bollo came home, he woke the pair of them up in time for tea. Naboo kissed the top of her head and she squeezed him a little, happy to be with him. She even managed to quickly kiss his cheek, before smiling a little awkwardly at him and getting up to lay the table.

Naboo smiled at her. At least it was something.

The meal was uneventful, save for Bollo telling them about how he'd been held up getting home after a family of heavy metal giraffes had been found living rough in one of the tube tunnels ('Leather not match their pattern well') and Naboo and Tara retired to their bedroom early, partly from still being tired and partly wanting some time alone.

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, then pulled back to look into his eyes. 'I miss you.'

'I'm right here.'

'You know what I mean Naboo.'

He smiled slightly, loving, as always, the way she said his name, hardly pronouncing the first syllable at all. If anyone else had called him 'boo' he wouldn't have been to pleased, but with Tara.. it was rather nice. 'Yeah, I know.'

He leant in to kiss her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, wanting desperately to kiss him but worrying about what her mind would show her if she did. Of course, the fact that she was worried about what she was going to see meant that she saw things she might not otherwise have done. Things that made her chest feel tight and made her pull away from Naboo at the last possible moment.

Naboo was tired, it had been a long day and all he wanted to do was kiss the woman he loved. He snapped. 'Look, I'm sorry, alright! But it's done, if I could take it back I would, but I can't, now will you just let me-' he tried to pull her into him again.

'Get OFF!' she pushed him away and he stumbled into the dressing table. 'What, do you think I'm punishing you or something, that I want it to be like this?! I hate it as much as you do, as soon as I came back to the flat I'd have ripped off your clothes and we'd have done it on the stairs, but I knew that I'd only get freaked out and leg it again, so I didn't because I don't want to leg it, I want to be with you! I mean, is that what you want, shall I just lie back while you have your way with me, what, Naboo?'

He looked at her. 'I'm sorry Tara. It's.. I'm sorry, whenever you're ready.'

He took another step towards her and tentatively kissed her on the forehead, lightly taking hold of her hand as he did so. 'Thank you Naboo.' she whispered.

'Time for bed?' he asked.

'God yeah.' she sighed. They undressed and climbed into bed, where they snuggled up close. Tara felt ok with that, she didn't know a lot about that night but she did know that Naboo hadn't brought the woman home, not to bed, their bed. With Naboo's arms around her under the warm covers, everything was almost right again. Or it would've been…

Tara felt something hard and familiar pressing against her. She smiled, then her smile quickly disappeared, then she sighed in anger.

'What's the matter?' asked Naboo from behind her.

'Your cocks pressing into me.'

'Oh…sorry.'

She sat up to look at him. 'No, it's not… don't apologise Naboo, why should that be a problem? It isn't a problem, it was just.. I felt it and though 'hello', y'know, but then I immediately thought of…so yeah, its just me and my stupid fucking thoughts. I'm sorry.'

Naboo sat up next to her, placing one hand on her forehead and the other at the base of her skull, closing his eyes as she closed hers. He wasn't trying to see into her head, only to calm her and balance her – he knew she only swore like that when she was really upset or angry about something.

'Don't ever apologise for this.' He whispered.

**Please review my lovely loves!**


	32. Cheerios and Cake

**Well, hello hello hello. I'll warn you now, this chapter's a long'un! It may even be my longest chapter (not including oneshots or anything) to date.. But onto matters of some actual interest. Thank you of course to everyone who's reviewed, and to Helen once again for betaing for me. Breif and largely pointless disclaimer, there are some song lyrics near the end of the fic and obviously I don't own them, same goes for anything else you might recognise that there's a reference to. I'll pop what songs the lyrics are from in the AN at the bottom.There was probably something else but once again, I've forgotten. Hopefully it wasn't important, eh?**

Naboo and Tara sat together on the sofa, hand in hand. Naboo had been even quieter than usual since yesterday, and was determined to be patient and gentle with Tara. He had to be - he knew that Tara loved him and wanted to be with him, but he was still on thin ice with her, and he didn't want to push things for fear of losing her. Again. 

Tara was having an internal struggle of her own. She desperately wanted things to be normal between her and Naboo again, and was trying to work herself up to be able to kiss him. The trouble was, she'd get about as far as just leaning into him, then would suddenly be totally and completely unable to go any further. After going through this a few times she felt like some American teen movie, except that it was definitely not funny. Actually, she felt exactly like some American teen movie.

Naboo was sat quietly next to her, holding her hand. She was sure that he knew what she'd been trying to do but bless him, he didn't say anything, just let her work herself up to it, and that really helped, just the knowledge that he'd be patient with her. She assumed that he was probably feeling guilty about yesterday, which she rather hated. On the one hand why should he feel guilty about trying to kiss his own fiancé, but on the other hand she really hated imagining him with _her_, but then there was a foot that didn't want to have to do this to him, make him wonder when he might get a small show of affection from her, then of course the other foot didn't want to be the one doing it, didn't want to be going through this herself. There was probably an elbow or something that thought perhaps they should just have sex and get it over with…

_It's Naboo for crying out loud, just kiss him! If you can't do it now when will you be able to do it! Turn your stupid mind off and just kiss the man you love!_

_No, don't think about that. That doesn't help anything._

_Why can't you do this? This is ridiculous, how many times have you kissed Naboo before and now you can barely even put your face next to his? Stop being stupid and just do it!_

But no matter how much she mentally berated herself, she couldn't bring herself to do such a simple thing. She finally got so frustrated that she burst into tears and buried her face in Naboo's neck.

Letting go of her hand, he immediately wrapped his arms around her and tried to calm her down. 'Tara.. shushhh…' He stroked her hair softly, allowing her to cry for a while, knowing that it was something she needed. 'It's ok Tara. Don't push yourself if you don't want to-'

'No!' she sniffed, sitting up sharply. 'I do, I do want to but.. argh!' she buried her face in his neck again. It was dark there, warm, and smelt nice. It was safe, and she liked it, but Naboo lifted her chin to look at her. 'I love you.'

Before she allowed herself to think, she leant forward and kissed him, not for long, but long enough for now. Their lips parted but they stayed close, and she even managed to kiss him quickly again, before hugging him tightly.

'I love you too.' She said sadly.

* * *

'Mr.. Moon, and Mr Noir?'

'Yes, here!'

'Come through please.' Said the suspiciously efficient-looking woman, holding the door open for them.

They put down what they'd been reading, which in Vince's case was a ridiculously trendy music magazine that had samples of band members hair for cloning free every month, and in Howard's case was a woman's health pamphlet on the menopause.

They stood and followed her into the interview room, to see two young men, probably only a little older than Tara, sporting alternative clothes and hair so stylish it made Vince run a hand over his to check it looked its best.

'Hi, take a seat.' The one on the left smiled to Vince, but giving Howard something of a dodgy look. 

'Right, so, my name's Chaz, this is Mickey-'

'Alright?' nodded the one on the right, who Vince and Howard both greeted.

'-so why d'you wanna work here at blEEp?' Chaz asked, referring to the music store they were in. The chain had sprung up seemingly overnight – in fact, it had taken centuries of careful planning, by a mastermind who's mind was so masterful that it thought of the idea before CDs or other forms of distributing music had even been invented. See, I told you, masterful. Anyway, the plan was to monopolise the media sales industry and become so corrupt as to finally make the world realise the evils of commercialism, organise a revolution and become a better place. Unfortunately all that happened was that blEEp became trendy for a while, made quite a bit of money then fell out of popularity. That's just the way life goes sometimes.

'Well, we're both very interested in music, we're in a band-' Howard took the opportunity to practically throw a flyer at them while Vince continued talking. '-plus – lots of indie girls!'

Mickey and Chaz grinned appreciatively, and even glanced at the flyer, after giving poor Howard a dodgy look when he'd thrust it at them just now. 'Alright, what sort of music are you into?'

Vince kicked Howard before he had a chance to speak, then launched into a reel of the coolest new bands such as _Davey Finn and the Chins_, _Kebabs and Socks_, and _Bonjour Oliver, Looks Like Our Cat Kevin's Skateboarding _(a band more commonly known by their acronym) Mickey and Chaz seemed impressed, and, due to Vince managing to keep Howard quiet by kicking him every time he opened his mouth, the interview was going well, until they asked if there was any way Vince and Howard if there was anything about the store that they'd improve.

'Oh yeah, I've been thinking about this, what if right, you organised all your stuff by colour?' asked Vince.

'What?'

'Imagine it, you walk into the store, and there's a rainbow across the walls, red to the left, orange, yellow, all the way through to violet on the far right! How great would that look?'

'But people wouldn't be able to find anything like that, where would you start looking for… Rob Square's 'Have you seen me protractor?''

'Easy, all Rob's CDs have red covers, Red Rob Square they call him, you'd just look in the red bit!' Vince could tell from their looks that his suggestion had not gone down well. 'Alright then, how about this, sort everything by who's been mentioned most recently in Heat magazine?'

Mickey and Chaz looked at each other, and Howard sensed that they were losing their audience. 'I've got a suggestion to increase your popularity.'

'Oh yeah?' They looked sceptical.

Vince knew what was coming. How could he not? If all else failed, it was what Howard always fell back on. He knew the word that was about to spew forth from those lips, the word that made his insides shrivel up like a humiliated grape, yet he could do nothing to stop it, he was frozen. Here it came…

'Jazz.'

'What?'

'Jazz, there's a growing market out there for jazz, I've been feeling which way the wind's been blowing-'

'That was just Naboo's curry, wasn't it?' interjected Vince.

'Shut up, look, I've had a little shufty round the store and your bebop and jazz section is sadly lacking, I think I could improve it with-'

'I think we've heard enough, thanks, we'll be in touch..' They tried to usher Vince and Howard out, and a dejected Vince complied, but Howard tried to stay and fight for his cause. 

'No, I've got records, I could show you, please, listen!'

'SECURITY!'

* * *

'It didn't go that well then?' asked Tara some hours later, after Vince and Howard had split up in pursuit of activities which would cheer them up, namely shopping and a jazz club, before returning home for tea.

'Overall…. No, not really.' Sighed Howard.

'Ah well, they'll be other places. Besides, I think you two would be more suited to an independent sorta place, not those soulless corporate machines. You could be like Tim in spaced, working in Bill Bailey's comic shop!'

'But Tim wanted to be a comic book artist and spent most of his time sitting around his flat and sometimes going off on these weird adventures, we're not like that!'

Tara just looked at him.

'Oh, just…. Shush.'

Tara laughed, then took hold of his hand and squeezed it gently. 'Something'll turn up.'

Howard smiled appreciatively – even with everything Tara was going though, she still tried to make sure everyone around her was happy. 

Naboo and Bollo announced that tea was ready, and started taking plates to the table as the others took their seats, Howard and Tara continuing their conversation.

'I might know someone if you want, my friend Shell's got a connection at this company who provides musicians for companies who need jingles..'

'No, no thanks Tara, there are some things Howard Moon considers himself above, and jingles are one of them.' He paused. '…They wouldn't be interested in scat singing by any chance?'

Tara scrunched up her face in thought. 'Doubt it Howard.'

'Then no, thank you.'

'Come on Howard!' called Vince, sitting down opposite Tara. 'Writing jingles would be amazing, imagine it, we'd be watching sugar puffs adverts and thinking 'that came from us!''

'Quite frankly Vince, I'd be ashamed that in all my years, I'd only reached sugar puffs. I'm Howard Moon, if anything, I should be jingling for Cheerios.'

'Cheerios don't have jingles, they're too plain, what would that be 'Cheerios Cheerios, eat them in your morning clothes, Cheerios Cheerios, no flavour in those little o's', that's getting no-one involved, they have to appeal to the healthy market, all that lot that think you shouldn't eat food just because its blue.. Cheerios have to market themselves as a healthy family snack that kids are gonna enjoy and are gonna be good for them, even though everyone knows that the only chance you've got of making kids eat cereal is if its marinated in sugar for three weeks before its packed!'

There was a stunned silence for a moment, before Tara spoke. '…You've been watching Vyvyan's Good Life rant again haven't you Vince?'

Vince poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. 'Maybe..'

'You're right though, I'm sure more kids must eat Sugar Puffs and Golden Grahams than eat Cheerios and Shredded Wheat.'

'I love Sugar Puffs' grinned Vince.

'Yeah, me too.. I think they're probably evil though.'

'Eh?'

'Evil, Sugar Puffs. They're trying to take over the world, ever noticed how they stick to everything? Reconnaissance that is, they're tracking our movements.'

'Is this to do with the apocalypse the Moomins are organising?'

It was Tara's turn to say 'Eh?'

'You remember, the first time you stayed here, we woke you up in the morning and you said you'd had some dream about the Moomins organising the apocalypse.'

'Oh yeah…' said Tara. 'I'd forgotten about that…'

In truth, she'd dreamt nothing of the sort, she'd simply had to think of a quick way of covering after blurting out 'Moomins', the memory of watching them with Naboo earlier that morning having returned to her.

She caught Naboo's eye and smiled. Thinking back, she'd known even then that there was something about him that she was attracted to, although it was probably more a matter of him being intriguing and unusual – how many grown men got up at five in the morning to watch the Moomins, let alone admit a liking for Snufkin?

She smiled again. That was so long ago. She supposed there had always been something between her and Naboo, from the very first time they met and and he'd given her free bubbles, smiling at her like he could see something no-one else could. Then she'd woken up in Tony the Prawn's lair, Naboo watching over her, making her feel so safe that she nodded off again straight away. He'd made her hot chocolate when Vince was ill.. on the roof in Paris.. their first kiss, after a night of wondering..

Her insides felt warm and full, and not because of the chicken chasseur. It was strange, but she hadn't thought back over their relationship for quite a while, before she'd been so wrapped up in Naboo, and now…. And now. Now it wasn't even so much a matter of what she was seeing so much as what she was afraid to see, she pulled away voluntarily before she felt forced to. Which in some ways made her feel even worse because it felt as though she was doing it on purpose now, and she really, really… probably.. wasn't. All she wanted was Naboo but at the moment, it didn't feel quite like she had him.

Once tea was finished and tidied away, they gathered on the sofa to watch the telly, Tara clutching a plate of cake.

'Where did you get that?' asked Naboo.

She looked down at it, a little surprised. 'I dunno……' she took a bite. 'Tastes good, wherever its from.'

What Tara wasn't to know was that the cake was in fact a gift from the author as consolation for her emotional torment in another story. There you go my darling little creation, all better now.

Shortly after her cake, Tara retreated to the bedroom to listen to music. Seeing her go, Vince nudged Naboo and nodded after her questioningly, wondering if perhaps the shaman should follow his fiancé, but he shook his head. 'No, she wants some time alone. I can sense it.' He added, as Vince frowned, thinking that he hadn't heard anything of the sort mentioned.

To be completely truthful, Naboo wanted a little time apart from Tara as well, which was why he'd been going out on shamanic missions (most of which someone else could really have covered) during the day. Of course he loved being with Tara, it wasn't a question of that, he loved her and wanted to be there for her but…. Things had been so awkward between them lately, he just wanted to be able to hold her and kiss her but she kept pushing him away. Of course, it wasn't her fault, but sometimes he thought that perhaps it was better to leave her alone..

But of course, he only felt like that for short amounts of time. As soon as he came home and saw her, he wanted nothing more than just to put his arms around her and make all the bad things disappear. 

No, it was ok, they'd get there. He knew that there wasn't really anything he could do, just be patient with her, and if that meant going out on the carpet for a few hours so he didn't feel so frustrated and rubbish at home, then so be it. He needed some time out and about just as he knew Tara needed this time to think now.

He gave it a while longer, then decided that he wanted to be with her again, and also that he wanted to go to bed.

He opened the door softly to see Tara lying above the covers staring at the ceiling, her laptop beside her on the bed, musicfilling the room.

'Hey.'

She looked up, and smiled. 'Hey. I was just about to come and get you.'

'Why?' he asked, as she sat up and reached an arm towards him. He sat next to her on the bed and she hugged him gratefully. 'Oh, that's why.'

She smiled as they lay back on the bed on their backs, Naboo holding Tara close to him as her laptop sang its way through the long playlist.

Her fingers traced idly up and down his arm. 'Naboo?'

'Hmm?'

'Things would be better wouldn't they, if I didn't know about all this?'

'…Not for my conscience.'

'But for us.'

'I s'pose you could say that.'

She rolled over to look at him across the pillow, the moonlight dancing through his onyx hair. 'You've got potions and stuff, couldn't you.. Make me forget?'

'I could, but I'm not going to.'

'But.. It'd be so much easier!'

'What's easy isn't always what's right Tara. What if you somehow found out about it later on? And realised I'd made you forget, how would you feel then, knowing that I'd messed with your head just so we could..'

'But.. What if we told the others what you were doing, they could tell me!'

'No Tara.' he said, softly but firmly.

She nodded in acceptance. 'Ok, if you won't make me forget, will you at least tell me everything?'

'What d'you mean?'

'Well, I don't really know anything, just that it was one time with some woman and you were really drunk, and it was somewhere other than.. You didn't bring her here, did you?'

'No.'

'No, I didn't think you would… but anyway, I think perhaps if you told me, exactly what happened, it might stop my imagination going so crazy.'

'Everything? I don't remember too much.'

'Everything, everything you remember.'

'You're sure?'

'I'm fairly sure I am.'

He regarded her for a moment, then pushed himself up on his elbow, other arm still around her. 'Alright.'

_I, I can do anything  
If you want me here  
And I can fix any thing  
If you let me near  
Where are those secrets now  
That you're too scared to tell  
I'd whisper them all aloud  
So you can hear yourself_

'Where was it?'

'Some new place.. I dunno, I'd wandered around for ages but… I've never been there before. We've never been there.'

'Ok… but I meant…'

'Just… some alley.'

'Lovely.'

_My song it shames your ears  
Every sentence a failure._

'And her?'

'Some woman. On the barstool next to me, she started talking and.. so did I. And.. well.'

'Pretty?'

'Alright.' Tara was still looking at him expectantly, she wanted to know more, did she look like her or was she tall, thin, blonde, glamorous… she didn't know which would be worse. 'Dyed hair, blonde with roots, but not too noticeable. Dressed a bit.. obvious. Larger figure than you, but still average. Looked like she'd spent four hours putting makeup on before she went out.'

Tara nodded a little, unsure of how she felt. Naboo's description wasn't particularly flattering, of course it never would have been, even if the woman had looked like Heather Graham he'd have described her to make her sound nothing next to how he saw Tara. But the description did sound rather genuine. Some woman, in a bar. She knew the type. She didn't know what she thought of it.

_I should be crying, but I just can't let it show.  
I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking_

'Did you kiss her?'

He thought for a moment. 'Yeah.'

Tara looked away, suddenly feeling more upset. Naboo's kisses were usually something reserved solely for her. Well, all of Naboo was really, but there was something intimate and personal about a kiss that somehow bothered her even more than the sex.

'Hey.' Naboo said softly, bringing her back to the present. She turned her face back towards him. 'I love you.'

She smiled and nodded as he squeezed her gently.

_If I kiss you where it's sore  
will you feel better, better, better  
will you feel anything at all?_

'Did you.. did you use a condom?'

'..Yeah.'

'You weren't that drunk then.'

'No, just not that stupid. It was hers.' He added, before she could ask why he'd come prepared.

_When all is said and done  
Will we still feel pain inside?  
Will the scars go away with night?  
Try to smile for the morning light  
It's like the best dream to have  
Where every thing is not so bad_

'So how do you feel now?'

'Better, I think, I'll still be thinking about it I think, but at least now I have a better idea of what's realistic and what's just me being totally paranoid. I mean, I was picturing you doing all sorts of stuff with some beautiful woman..'

'I'm already with some beautiful woman.'

Tara smiled softy, then, pushing Naboo gently back onto the bed, laid her head on his chest and fell asleep listening to the beat of his heart.

_I need some distraction  
oh beautiful release  
memory seeps from my veins  
let me be empty  
and weightless and maybe  
I'll find some peace tonight_

**Lyrics, in order: Angels and Airwaves 'A Little's Enough', Jimmy Eat World 'The Most Beautiful Things', Kate Bush 'This Woman's Work', Regina Spektor 'Better', Angels and Airwaves 'A Little's Enough' (yes, that's right, again - I'd forgotten I'd used them earlier, oh well!), Sarah McLachlan 'Angel'. I'm not perfectly happy with the ones I chose so if you can think of any other lyrics that would fit nicely, or indeed with any part of the fic, I'd love to hear them! Please review!**


	33. A lesson on water conservation

**Like a gurt fool, I forgot to mention in my last A/N that the fic that Tara had been in some distress in and I decided to console her with cake for is Cookiemunsters 'When Jools met the Boosh', as is the bit about the photobooth pics (you'll see) but that hasn't actually been uploaded yet. I get sneak snippets because I'm special, y'see :P But yes, it is very good so if you aren't already, go and read it, instead of wasting your time with this. And of course, thank you to my lovely review-type people. Oh yes, and apologies for the French stereotype but I couldn't think of an appropriate celebrity.**

It was a chilly morning, and Vince, Howard and Bollo sat around the living room, sipping their morning tea, conversation punctuated by Tara singing merrily in the shower. '_Finland, Finland, Finland… the country where I'd like to beeeee…..'_

Howard and Bollo seemed pleased with her cheerful disposition, yet Vince frowned, troubled. 'What's up Vince? Topshop sale ended?'

'Nah, s'til Thursday..' he muttered distractedly. He turned to look at Howard, fluffing up his hair subconsciously. 'Howard.. what d'you think'll happen if Tara and Naboo don't work things out?'

Howard looked a little startled. Sure, it was something they'd all thought about, especially when Tara had gone away like that, but she was back now and slowly but surely things seemed to be getting better for them. He especially didn't think Vince would be thinking about it now, he had more faith in Naboo and Tara's relationship than he did in No-Gravity Hair Spray from _Salon du Kev_. 'What are you talking about Vince?'

'Well, y'know… They've been all unhappy, and-'

He was interrupted by another burst of song from Tara. '_Eating breakfast or dinner.. or snack lunch in the hall..'_

'She sounds happy enough to me.' Said Howard.

'She's pretty much always happy in the shower.' Smirked Vince. 'She says you can never sound as good singing as when you're in the shower.'

'_Finland, Finland, Finland… Finland has it allll….'_

They looked at each other, stifling laughter. 'Perhaps you've got to be the one in the shower to think it sounds good.' Mused Howard.

Vince let the subject drop, sensing that Howard wasn't worried like he was. He just…. He didn't know what he'd do if something went wrong with Tara and Naboo. They were just so.. if something went wrong.. it'd be like the world had turned inside out. Everything that was once right would be wrong, the sky would be orange, Ryvita would taste better than sherbert, South Park would be adored by American pressure groups… it would be acceptable to wear long johns….

Tara would leave the flat. He was sure she wouldn't be able to be in such close proximity to Naboo, not for quite a while. Would Vince go with her? She'd need someone, definitely, and he'd want to know she'd be alright, but.. Naboo would be upset too. Despite what he'd done, Vince had still grown to think of him almost as a brother.. if all went to plan, they would be brothers soon, brothers in law anyway. If all worked out.

The photobooth pictures of Naboo and Tara on the fridge caught his eye. Still, no matter how much the others said otherwise, he still felt at least partly responsible for Tara's death, and of course this whole mess now. If he hadn't delayed Tara's death, she wouldn't have been with Naboo, then he wouldn't have been heartbroken when she'd died this time, wouldn't have made his stupid mistake, and he and Tara wouldn't have to be going through this. It could all be traced back to Vince.

They all said it wasn't his fault, and in a strange way he knew he wasn't as responsible as he let himself think. But he still felt it, a little part of himself, dark and heavy, and he didn't think he'd ever be entirely rid of it.

Vince was currently being studied by Bollo's keen eyes, who'd been listening to the conversation. Bollo that is, not his eyes. Eyes don't listen. That's what ears are for. But anyway. Not to sound uncaring, but Naboo and Tara's problems were just that, their problems, to be sorted out themselves.

Although, that didn't mean that he couldn't give them a nudge in the right direction, it was having an effect on all of them. Obviously they weren't in the same state that Naboo and Tara were, but worrying about the pair of them, as Bollo knew that Howard and Vince were doing as much as he was, it took its toll. Perhaps it was time for him to share with them some of his forty-four years of wisdom. Naboo was certainly wise, often more so than Bollo, but this looked like one of those times that someone else's perspective was needed – often you can be so wrapped up in the middle of something its nigh impossible to see your way out.

Howard plonked himself next to Vince on the sofa, and patted him bracingly on the shoulder. 'Come on Vince, you said it yourself, they'll get through it.. its them two.'

'Yeah..' he sighed.

Just then, there was a shout of alarm from the bathroom. 'Aagh! Wh- NABOO!'

Naboo, who'd been reading in his room, flung the door open as the others leapt up from the sofa.

He pounded on the bathroom door. 'Tara?'

The door was wrenched open and Naboo was pulled in by the front of his robes, before Tara slammed the door shut again. 'Jesus!' cried Naboo from the other side of the door.

'What's going on? Cried Vince, Howard and Bollo through the wood.

There was no immediate reply, but they could hear Tara's frantic voice from the bathroom, and Naboo's trying to calm her down. 'What's going on?' asked Vince again.

Naboo cracked the door open and peered out at them, looking a bit annoyed. 'Bollo, did you move your shampoo onto Tara's shelf?'

'Uhh…'

'I think you did, because she thought it was her body wash and now there's got black fur sprouting up all over the place! She looks like an old doormat!'

'Oi!' cried Tara from out of sight, whacking Naboo on the shoulder.

'Sorry.'

'Why's Bollo's shampoo made Tara sprout fur?' asked Howard.

'Explain, will ya Bollo?' requested Naboo. He turned to talk to Tara. 'I'll go get something to sort this out.'

He pushed past as Howard and Vince turned to Bollo, waiting for their explanation.

'Gorilla fur very thick and strong, need penetrating shampoo. But Bollo getting on a bit, fur getting thin, need thickening shampoo. Work well on him but.. on human skin, make you look like French women's armpit.'

'I'm going to kill you Bollo. I look like I should be rescued by the RSPCA.' Said Tara, leaning against the door with a towel wrapped around her. She didn't want anyone to see her like this, not even Naboo really, but she knew he was the only one who'd know how to help, and he'd have to see what he was dealing with. She just hoped that it wouldn't affect how he saw her in future, or god forbid that he'd like it…

'Bollo sorry.' She heard. 'I get you something to eat, you want banana?'

'_NoIdon'twantasoddingbanana!'_ she shrieked.

'Don't worry Tara.' Called Naboo, emerging from his room holding a large bottle.

Tara opened the door, careful to stay out of sight, and he stepped in, smiling gently at her.

He was actually fighting the urge to laugh – Tara looked slightly hilarious, all forlorn and covered in fur. 'This'll sort you out, it'll remove all the new hair without taking any of your own off.'

'How's that work?'

'Easy, I just put all the ingredients of Bollo's shampoo in in reverse order. Doesn't work with everything though, tried it once with a pigsty potion, I was trying to tidy the place up.. ended up without eyebrows.' Tara eyed the bottle warily. 'Don't worry, this'll work fine, we'll just rub it on you and it'll stop the hair growth, then it'll fall out in a couple of days.'

'What?! A couple of-?!' she saw Naboo grinning slyly at her. 'How long really then?'

'No time at all, it'll come straight off.'

'You total bastard.' She laughed, holding out her hand for the potion.

'I'll do it.' Said Naboo.

'…No you won't.' she said.

'Tar-'

'I'm all hairy and horrible, I don't want you to… I don't want you to be thinking about that when you're thinking about me, otherwise we'll be in an even worse state.'

'Tara it really isn't- you're beautiful! Besides, you'll need me to do your back won't you?'

But Tara would have none of it, so Naboo placed a folded towel on the floor and sat on it, waiting for her to sort herself out and wondering if it was simply because of this whole mess that she wouldn't let him touch her like this, or if she'd have been like that anyway. He certainly thought she'd have been more able to see the funny side under normal circumstances.

A little voice from behind the shower curtain returned him from his thoughts. 'Naboo?'

He stood. 'Yeah?'

'I.. I can't reach to do my back.' He smiled a little. 'And if you dare say 'I told you so' I'll pour Bollo's shampoo all over you and hide this antidote.'

He heard humour in her voice. God it sounded beautiful, humour!

He pulled back the curtain to be confronted with Tara's… hairy back. He took the antidote poison from her, trying to stifle his laughter, but inevitably couldn't. He let out a little snort as he rubbed the potion onto her back.

There was a pause, silence but for the hammering of the water against the enamel.

Then a small snort on return. A titter. And then Tara was full-on laughing, the music of it dancing over the tiles as Naboo joined her in her laughter, laughing at everything, Tara's largely unexpected and sudden demise, her slightly clichéd return with a white streak of hair, spending her first night back with Howard, and now looking like an overgrown badger.

But suddenly the sound of her laughter changed, it was no longer beautiful music but the dark poetry of despair as Tara let out a sob. Then another. Then she was crying, leaning against the wall for support before sliding into the bath.

Before such thoughts as 'these-robes-are-only-supposed-to-be-dry-cleaned' entered his head, Naboo tossed the empty bottle of potion aside and jumped into the bath next to her, holding her tightly as she wept.

He kissed her forehead. She looked so beautiful, even now, only just free of all that hair, splotchy and crumpled, but gorgeous as the water weaved its way over her naked pearly skin, over parts of her he hadn't seen, let alone touched, for…

He mentally shook himself, thinking how ridiculous it was for him to be jealous of water. Especially now, when Tara was like this.

'Tara-'

'Everything, its just… everything!'

'Shh, come on, no it isn't.'

'Everything!'

'No Tara, it might feel like it but its not, we brought you back didn't we, fixed that, and we've got you cleaned up now.. its just this, just us. And we'll find a way to fix that too, just give it more time.'

She wiped her eyes and tried to catch her breath, her heavy head resting against him.

Eventually she recovered herself and tilted her head, kissing the underside of his chin lightly.

His chocolate eyes admired her for a few moments. 'Come on' he said bracingly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her upright. 'Let's get you dressed.'

He helped her over the side of the bath, then reached to turn the shower off, as it had been running all this time. The water used could have been really useful in the deserts of planet Shrafhiiki, where its become so dry that martinis made there aren't even drinkable by the standards of Hawkeye and Trapper, and possums have taken to wearing sombreros to protect from the sun, which wouldn't so much bake or burn you, as deep fry you, pop you in the toaster then chuck you on a bonfire for a finale. Plants there, however, were incredibly optimistic, and did quite well for themselves seven metres down in the soil where it was a little damp, but the surface was so hot and most importantly, dry, that they could bear to climb up no further than three meters below it before either committing suicide in desperation or resorting to cannibalism to suck moisture from each other. Think about that next time you leave the tap on, you wasters.

Tara wrapped a fluffy towel around herself and waited for Naboo to be ready before going with him to their bedroom. He found her some clean clothes, then watched her dress. He hugged her tightly before they ventured forth into the living room.

'Aww!' cried Vince. 'I wanted to see you all hairy!'

'Thanks Vince, thanks a lot.'

'Come on Tara, how often does something like this happen?' she looked at him. 'Alright…'

Bollo brought Tara some hot chocolate, bowing his head in apology for the distress he'd caused her.

She took it gratefully from him, smiling to show that he was forgiven.

'I didn't know you had to use special shampoo Bollo.'

'Usually it locked away safe.'

'So what made you forget to lock it away this time?'

'Bollo not forget, I left it out on purpose.'

'What? Why?'

'Bollo thought author been giving you two hard time lately, hairy Tara might provide comic relief for you.'

'Didn't really work though, did it?'

'No. Author ruined plan by letting pen not brain do the writing. Idiot.'

**Well, that told me, didn't it? I shall have to keep a closer eye on my stationery. Also, before y'all jump up waving your arms in the air doubting my Boosh knowledge (well, you mighta..), I know Bollo's age was 40 in Fountain of Youth, but it is now some time past that, both in this world and the real world of fanfiction. Oh wait, I got that wrong didn't I? Who knows what's real and what's not. If you have any ideas on this, or indeed on anything featured in tonight's episode… uuh, chapter… don't write to number anywhere, any street, any PO BOX, instead just click on that lovely clicky button saying 'Go' next to the lovely bar saying 'Submit review.' Go on, it'll be lovely for all involved.**


	34. Vienetta layers

**Thanks for reviews, you lovely lot! Hope to make y'all nice and happy with this'un! Thanks to Helen for beta'ing!**

Tara had been quite quiet for a couple of days, wandering around looking thoughtful and occasionally sighing in an annoyed fashion

Tara had been wandering around looking thoughtful and a little dejected for a few days now, and had taken to spending ages staring out of windows.

Naboo had come home one evening to find her lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 'Tara?'

She propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. 'Right, so, I've been thinking quite a lot, as you've probably noticed, and.. I hate things how they are at the moment and I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps this taking things slow idea is the best thing to do after all… I've kept coming back to the thought that perhaps we should just have sex and get it over with, and then we'll be ok again, so uh… lets go.' She flopped back down, spread-eagled.

Sighing, Naboo sat on the bed next to her and pulled her up to face him. 'What's the matter?' she asked. 'Don't you want to-?'

'No. Not like this Tara, call me crazy but 'get it over with' and 'so lets go' just don't turn me on.'

'But… I'm trying to do this for you.'

'This isn't about me Tara, I'm the one that was a twat but its about us. I don't want to have sex with you while you just lie back and try not to think, I want it to be.. right. I want it to be us.'

She sighed. 'You're right. It shouldn't be like that, I'm just.. I'm so sick of this!'

'We'll get there, be patient.'

'I know.' She sighed again. 'Its just so hard..'

'Tell me about it.' He muttered. Make of that what you will.

Because of this, Tara spent the next morning wandering around looking annoyed and frustrated, and not knowing what to do for the best, and was just about to partake in her new hobby of window-staring when Bollo, being the only one home (Naboo out on another mission and Vince and Howard job-hunting), took it upon himself to sort her out.

First, however, he had to release her mind from its current prison. Luckily, the living room needed a clean.

'Come Tara, you dust shelves and Bollo clean windows.' She looked around the room a little half-heartedly. 'I let you put musicals CD on.'

'Alright then' she smiled, and held out a hand for him to pull her up.

He did so, then went to fetch her a duster as she searched out the CD from the rack. Standing, she happened to glance at the calendar hanging on the wall. 'Oh frik!'

'What's the matter?' asked Bollo, torso-deep in the cupboard in his hunt for clean dusters.

'That interview, for Yawn FM, it's tomorrow, I completely forgot about it! That was close, we'd have been pretty buggered if I hadn't gone.'

'You think you will get job?'

'Well, I don't wanna jinx it or anything, but yeah I'm fairly confident, like I said I've been driving around for so long I know where most roads are and how to avoid them, and I did radio in college so I've got experience with that as well…. Hopefully I'll be alright.' She smiled. It was strange to Bollo that she seemed happier and more confident in that than she had seemed about her and Naboo.

'Will you have to work a lot?'

'Not sure, I think it'll just be the morning show, maybe sometimes on the drive home.. why?'

'If you leave early in morning you will have less time with Naboo. When you get back he might be on mission, you couldn't go out on evening because you'd be tired next morning..'

She signed. 'I know. But if I don't get this job we might have a lot of time together when we're living on the street.'

He grunted in reply. She continued. 'I do miss him. Even when he is here, it isn't the same.. things have been better recently, but its still not right, and I.. I just don't know what to do to fix it, Bollo.'

He placed a paw reassuringly on her shoulder. 'Something come along soon.'

'People keep saying that, but..'

'Trust Bollo, he wise. Knew what date to place bet on Pete Doherty being sent to prison.'

She laughed a little, and hugged him. 'Thank you Bollo.' She considered telling him that he was like a giant cuddly toy, but decided that perhaps he wouldn't appreciate it.

He left her to tackle the shelving unit, which was covered with all sorts of nick-nacks (many of them failed creative endeavours of Howard's), to give the bathroom a quick once-over. He glanced at the collection of Lush products in their black tubs and yellow bags on Tara's shelf. He'd relied on the fact that they would be easily confused with his bottle of shampoo, but his idea still didn't work quite like he'd hoped. Ah well, if at first you don't succeed…

After Bollo and Tara's efforts the flat was so clean that passing health inspectors would've felt the need to take their shoes off before going in, so they sat down to watch some telly.

As there was nothing of any great interest on, and Tara couldn't decide on just one of her many DVDS, they ended up watching a rather poor show about people learning to drive. They chatted idly over it, Tara giving her opinion on where she thought some of the learners were going wrong, until one young man was having real trouble passing his test, despite doing rather well in his lessons.

'Poor kid' said Tara sympathetically. 'Really knocks your confidence back, that does.'

'How many times it take you?'

'Just the once, but it took my friend James about five times, we kept having to encourage him so he didn't give up, he really wanted to drive so he could travel across Europe.'

'How you get him to keep going?'

'We just told him to keep focusing on the positive, the trip and everything. He was like this kid, he did really well in his lessons, its just that when it came to the big test, nerves got the better of him and he panicked and failed.'

Bollo observed her for a moment. 'That sound like good advice. Focusing on negatives only make negatives seem more overwhelming. Should focus on positive things of past or future instead, positives stronger, block negatives out.' He continued to look pointedly at her.

Tara was very quiet as her eyes fell from his to the floor, unfocused as Bollo's words echoed round her head. She was amazed that considering how generally optimistic she was, it honestly hadn't occurred to her to focus on all the previous positives of her relationship with Naboo, all those things that kept her warm and smiling when she was alone at night, rather than the recent negatives.

She looked back up at Bollo and smiled, nodding to show that she understood. He nodded back at her as she got up to look out of the window. But instead of staring at the street below, as she had in her previous melancholia, she looked instead to the skies, wondering when Naboo would be home.

* * *

'Hey, I've got layers, I'm like a Vienetta.'

Tara stood up to add Vienetta to the shopping list on the kitchen chalkboard. Vince and Howard had returned home a couple of hours ago, and were now arguing after Howard had called Vince shallow.

'Your layers are three deep, there's looks, sounds, and contemporary..ablility..ness..'

'My layers are multiple, like a huge book.'

'Books don't have layers Vince, they've got pages.'

'Yeah, and there's many pages to me, I'm like a novel!'

'More like a pop-up.'

'I'm not a pop-up, I'm like the Jolly Postman, I've got layers inside my pages!'

'You're like who?'

'The Jolly Postman, that book, y'know.'

'What makes him so jolly?'

'….Gin?'

After her childhood had been shattered in that one fatal word, Tara went to look out of the window _again_. After realising that Bollo was right about her focusing on the positives, and just how doing that made her felt, she was careful not to think about it too much for fear of her excitement wearing off. She just wanted to see Naboo again, soon.

She sat back down next to Vince and listened to him and Howard talking nonsense for a while, until she was grateful to hear the scrape of the bedroom window as Naboo returned home, pushing the carpet through. 'Naboo!'

She leapt up and hurried to the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her. He looked up from leaning the carpet against the wall in the corner and smiled at her. 'Alright?'

Allowing her heart and mind to fill with the memory of the rooftop in Paris, and the slightly different version that resided in her head, she stepped up to Naboo and kissed him deeply.

She felt his surprise, but he soon kissed her back, pulling her closer into him as she pushed him towards and onto the bed. Feeling her tug at his robes, he finally took hold of his mind, and indeed his mouth, and pulled away. 'Tara, wait – are you sure you wanna..?'

One of her hands moved up from his back up to his hair, cupping the back of his head. 'Trust me.' She pulled him back down towards her, now thinking about their visit to the Bath of Love, the warm and impossibly soft waters washing gently over their skin, every touch and emotion magnified, bliss like no other.

Naboo did trust her, he trusted that she knew what she was doing. Before, he could sense her uncertainty, her worry, but now it was different. He didn't know what she was thinking about, but whatever it was, she was sure of it.

She moaned breathily as his hands rediscovered their way over her body, any thoughts of getting beneath the covers forgotten. She discarded his undershirt as he peeled her trousers from her legs, running his fingers along the underside of her knee. Their lips met again and, feeling just how hard Naboo was, Tara employed hands, knees, feet, anything available to get his trousers off as he continued to caress her. His hand moved down, past her belly, thumb and fingers working to produce more gasps and sighs of pleasure as he kissed her neck and chest.

Naboo was trying his hardest to go steady with her, be gentle, but Tara awoke such a passion in him that he couldn't help himself, instinct took over as he pushed her legs a little further apart and drove himself deep inside her.

She gasped, then smiled as her breathing grew even heavier, their hips moving together as her fingers clawed at his back.

Tara had had a whole list of memories of her and Naboo lined up, but she soon found that she actually didn't really need them, not any more. It was the initial hurdle she had trouble overcoming, now that they were really getting into it, her mind was just on this, just her and Naboo. This was right, it was how it was supposed to be, it was… it was just her and Naboo.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing deeply. They shared a kiss before he rolled to one side and Tara tried to put her mind back together. It was by no means the best sex they'd ever had, but it was such a relief, a release, just to know that they could do it again, enjoy each other like that without her getting upset.

Naboo looked across at her. Although he knew she would've said if something was wrong, and did indeed stop him for a few seconds a couple of times, he still prayed to every deity he knew of that she wasn't about to burst into tears and run away or something. 'You ok?'

She grinned. 'Oh, I'm so much more than ok. I may have to get up in a minute and kiss Bollo on the mouth' she giggled.

'..What?'

'Oh, nothing.' She turned to rest her head next to his. 'I love you so much.'

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. 'You too.'

**See what you get if you're optimistic? Shaman sexings! (N.B. The results of optimism may include, but are not limited to, 'shaman sexings' (copyright pending). Shaman sexings may not always occur because of optimism. Optimism may also result in non-shaman sexings, or broken limbs, although this is not the fault of the author or affiliated persons).**

**Don't know why I said all that. Ah well. Please review my loves!**


	35. James May, Tapestries and Cherry Sauce

**Well well. Been a while hasn't it? Sorry about that m'loves, this is a good three pages long though, should keep you going for a while! Thanks of course and as always to my lovely reviewer-types, and to Helen for betaing! Now, on with the show! Um, fic. Yeah.**

Waking up in Naboo's arms the next morning, Tara felt as though a great weight had been lifted. She knew that there would still be times when she'd think about it and it would upset her, but at least now she also knew that most of the other times, if she _did_ think about it, she'd be able to push it away and ignore it, and not let it get in the way of her and Naboo.

God, she loved Naboo.. She'd met a lot of people and had a lot of friends, but she felt that none of them understood and accepted her for what she was, which was, as she saw it anyway, an optimistic yet emotionally paranoid nutbox with an unusual adoration of James May and a strange way of organising socks, quite like Naboo did. Naboo took all of those strange quirks and fell in love with them, fell in love with her. And, of all the things she secretly worried about, that was something she was sure of.

She smiled as she gazed at him, then her eyes caught the clock on the bedside cabinet. 'Bugger.'

Annoyed, she sighed a little and nudged him. 'Naboo. Naboo.' She nuzzled his neck, then kissed it. He stirred. 'Mmmf.'

'Naboo..'

'Tara.' Keeping his eyes closed, the arm around her back pulled her closer to him and his lips found her forehead. 'I love you.'

_Well that just made this even harder_. 'I love you too. But I've got to get up.'

'No.' He immediately replied, holding her tighter to him still.

'Naboo…'

His eyes remained closed, but she knew that he was almost fully awake now as he whispered 'just a little longer.'

'I've got that interview to get ready for, the traffic'll be a nightmare, and the tubes.'

'We don't need money.'

'I hope you'll remember saying that when we're living off pot noodles in the cold and dark.'

'Chicken and mushroom?'

'Only on the weekends, we don't wanna spoil ourselves' Her finger traced the line of his jaw. 'I can stay for another half hour or so if you take me on the carpet.'

'Then I'll take you on the carpet.'

She settled back down and Naboo finally opened his eyes, smiling as he looked at her. 'You're beautiful.'

She smiled softly, gazing at the canopy above their bed. Naboo had enchanted it long ago, in a manner inspired by the Great Hall's ceiling in Harry Potter, so that it displayed all sorts of fantastic images according to what the observer wished to see, or how they felt. They'd sometimes spend hours looking up at it, Tara's extensive imagination creating all sorts of magical visions, or using it as a template for ideas before actually setting out a canvas, while Naboo would sometimes use it to show her creatures or events he'd been telling her about. Once when lying in bed with him, Tara had looked up to see a scene from what she could only assume to be a shaman version of the Karma Sutra. She'd simply laughed and told him he had to be joking – 'if I could bend like that, I'd have been able to stay with that circus'.

At the moment it looked rather like an old tapestry, displaying something of a fairytale scene, a prince and princess in a castle.

Naboo noticed her smiling at it. 'S'nice to see it like that again. When you were gone.. it was pretty… dark, enclosing, it fell from up there and filled the room, surrounded the bed, until it was just me…'

Tara stayed quiet. He'd told her about how he'd brought her back, although he was suspiciously fuzzy about one part of it, and the others had caught her up on what had been going on in the world while she was gone, but… Apart from when they'd first brought her back, he hadn't said much about his own time without her.

'I missed you so much. I felt cut off, unreal… like I was dreaming a really really bad dream. I couldn't breathe. I went crazy without you, I- well, you know what happened. Trying to find you, bring you back, was the only thing that kept me going… if I didn't have that, didn't have you…'

Tara chose to interrupt there; she felt that if Naboo kept going, he'd only upset himself, and she didn't want that. She knew he'd been through hell, she couldn't imagine what she'd have done if she'd lost him, but it was over now, they were officially past every part of it, there was no point in dwelling on something that's done.

'You do have me. Now anyway, and forever and ever and ever' she grinned, then nodded to the canvas, which Naboo quickly noticed had changed rather radically. Instead of the beautiful and intricate embroidery, it now had something more of a village fair number, simple and brightly coloured, a blue sky and quilted yellow sun, in front of which were the bold and bright words 'Here comes the Sun.'

He smiled, pulled Tara to lie on top of him and kissed her, his hands caressing her skin.

As his hand took hold of hers, Tara was suddenly very aware of the ring on her fourth finger. Her engagement ring. With all that had been going on, she hadn't really had a lot of time to let it sink in, that she was actually engaged to Naboo, they were going to get married.

Wow. Really? That was…. A lot. She'd never really understood marriage. Sure, she'd been happy for the few friends of hers that had done it already, but she hadn't quite seen the necessity, if you loved someone, really loved them, why did you need to prove it with a cake and a ring and a vicar? And who were you trying to prove it to, the world, or yourself?

But now, with Naboo… even if she still didn't understand why, she knew it was something she wanted more than anything else.

* * *

Naboo dropped her off a couple of hours later in a quiet side-road next to the radio station. 'You want me to pick you up after?'

'Um.. nah, s'alright, I don't know how long I'll be, I'll get the tube or something. Thanks though!'

'Good luck.' He smiled, and kissed her goodbye.

She waved him off, then strolled around the corner, mentally threatening to get a net if the butterflies in her stomach didn't settle down soon. Yes, she had experience, and knew what she was talking about, but nerves were nerves, and if she didn't get control of hers soon the interview wouldn't go well at all.

She rounded the corner, and looked up at the building. It was old, large, and imposing. Didn't help her a lot, to be honest. The architecture, though beautiful, looked as though it belonged on a theatre rather than a cool radio station like Yawn FM, but she ventured in nevertheless.

The gothic feel of the building was continued inside,

Inside, the imposing nature of the building continued, but the entrance was decorated in a manner far more similar to what she had expected. A small desk to the left housed a computer, a pile of post and CDs, and a goth with a lip ring picking idly at her nails, while the rest of the room contained several doors through which interesting and important-looking people kept flitting, large brightly coloured canvases, some of which she recognised, and comfy purple sofas on which sat a couple more nervous-looking people. One of them, she was sure, was the lead singer of Vince's new favourite band _Kukachuchoo_.

The desk-goth suddenly noticed her and sat upright, taking the pen she'd been chewing out of her mouth. 'Can I help you?'

'Yeah, my name's Tara Noir, I'm here for an interview.'

The girl picked up a clipboard and scanned it for Tara's name. 'Noir, Noir.. ah yeah, there you are, it'll be about ten minutes if you'd like to sit down.'

Tara nodded and thanked her, and was about to take a seat when the girl spoke again. 'Wait, you're Nick's friend, aren't you?'

'That's right, yeah.'

'I'm Cass.' She reached over the desk to shake Tara's hand, then leant towards her and lowered her voice. 'Relax. He said your interview was pretty much just a formality.'

She winked at Tara, then nodded for her to go and sit down.

She floated towards the sofas and sank down, not even really feeling her weight on the cushion. Formality. Right, ok. That was a good thing. Of course, there was another majorly good thing that was taking up a lot of room in her head, and that was her and Naboo. She only hoped her mind wouldn't wander to that in the interview, it would be fun but not all that helpful…

Ok, interview. Main points. Driving. Knowledge. Radio. Yep. Perhaps she should say a little more when actually talking to her interviewers…

She stared around the room, wondering if the other people sat waiting were here for the same job she was, or for something else. She was about to introduce herself, but the one closest to her at least looked so nervous she doubted he'd have heard her.

Now that she'd calmed down a little, she decided that the place was actually rather nice. The style was still imposing, but in here it was strangely understated, as were its efforts to look and feel cool. She could get used to it here, she thought..

_No, stop that. Formality or not, you haven't even gone into the interview room yet, if you don't get this you'll only be more disappointed if you start thinking about how nice it would be here. Behave yourself._

She idly twiddled her hair, trying to force herself not to think about Naboo, and wondering about stopping on the way home for some chocolate sauce. _Or cherry…_ _Stop! Or you'll be so far in the world of fantasy that you wont hear when they-_

'Tara?'

She twisted round to look at the familiar face behind her. 'Nick! Alright?'

'I'm fine, and you?' He replied, as she got up and hugged him.

'Good thanks, bit nervous!'

'You'll do fine, come on in.' He smiled and held the door open for her, followed, then closed it firmly.

**Oooh. There's more to come here at ol'Yawn FM, so stay tuned (ha-ha-ha), and please review! Go on, I'll give you a biscuit.**


	36. Don't smoke petunias, kids

**Well well. This chapter was originally gonna be a long one (ooer, obviously) but I've been having trouble writing the latter part and I've been busy with college work and revision and stuff, and I knew I'd be ages so I decided to split the chapter, posting what I'd already one (luckily I'd stopped at a rather opportune moment) and writing more when I could. So I'm afraid this chapter's rather something-and-nothing, but.. at least the nothing has a something. One hopes.**

**Thanks as always for reviews and to Helen for betaing.**

A little over an hour later, Tara stepped out of the interview room with Nick close behind her.

'Ohh my god oh my god oh my god.' She grinned, leaning against the wall.

Nick smiled at her. 'Told you it'd be a breeze.'

She turned her head to look at him. 'Oh man….'

Nick was right, it had been a breeze. Nervous as she was outside, when Tara had stepped into the room she'd put on an air of friendly confidence, and had made a great impression. Her interviewers had been friendly, and open to the idea of her working from local radio stations and transmitting it in, when she'd mentioned that she liked to spend time out of London. They'd been positive when she left, and…. It had all gone really well.

'I'm not really supposed to tell you this but..' he leaned a little closer to her. 'That job's yours. They've got to interview other people to be fair but, I've never seen them as impressed as they were with you.' He winked.

'Really?' Tara squealed, then felt ashamed of herself for acting quite so typically girly. 'Ahem. You mean it?'

'Have I ever lied to you?'

'Many times. And I've got the scar on my ankle to prove it.'

Nick, for his part, looked a little sheepish. 'But not about something like this!'

'True.' She grinned.

'Come on, I'll give you the tour of the place if you like.'

'Love to, but I've got to ring Naboo first.'

'How are things going with him? And when can I meet him again, you said you'd get him to tell me how he made those balloon animals roar and bleat and stuff.'

'I told you Nick, you were smoking petunias, it made you go all funny.' _God knows why I'm covering up for him, if Naboo doesn't want __everyone_ _to know he's a shaman he should stop bloody showing off!_ 'And.. things are going really well, thank you.'

She tried to stop herself grinning to a ridiculously large degree, but failed somewhat.

'Look at you! I don't think I've seen you blush as much since you made that sex noise when we-'

'That was a sneeze!' she cried insistently.

'Oh, how many other people moan like that when they sneeze?'

'Shut up alright, it was embarrassing enough as it was.'

Nick laughed and patted her consolingly on the head. Tara took it to be slightly patronising, not least because of his and her respective heights, and mock-glared at him.

'Don't give me that, you love it.' He laughed.

'I really don't.'

He smirked, and looked at his watch. 'Hey, I've got a bit of time until I have to be back at work, you want the grand tour?'

'Love it,' she replied. 'But I'll give Naboo a ring first, he'll want to know how it went.'

'Cool, but you won't get any sort of signal in here. Come on, I'll take you up to the roof.'

'Ooh, I like roofs!'

'I know you do.' He opened the door for her. 'After you.'

'Since when have you been so chivalrous?'

'Since always.'

'Ha, like hell.'

* * *

Emerging on the roof, Tara glanced around at the skyline and concluded it not to be as attractive as Paris. Nick hovered nearby, but not so near as to be intrusive, as Tara dialled.

Ring ring.

Ring ring.

Ri- 'Hello?'

'Hey, it's me.'

'Tara, alright? The interview's over then?'

'…No Naboo, they're asking me questions as we speak.'

She heard him laugh a little. 'Alright. How'd it go?'

'It went really well,' she said, knowing that he'd be smiling as he heard her own smile in her voice. 'They were really nice, and they seemed impressed and… Nick said the job's pretty much mine.'

Naboo let out an uncharacteristic whoop, then composed himself a little. 'That's fantastic Tara, I knew you'd get it! When d'you start?'

She laughed. 'Steady on, I haven't even officially got it yet! You trying to get me out of the house or something?'

'Course not!'

'You want me to stay locked in then, is that it?'

He paused for a moment. 'Yeah, I do. But only with me.'

'Sounds good, when do we start?'

'How about as soon as you get home?'

'Mmm. What then?'

'Then,' he said, and she heard the bedroom door click closed behind him. She was suddenly aware that Nick was standing only a few feet away and although she'd love to continue (_and as much as Nick would probably enjoy it, the perv_), she should probably stop Naboo there. 'I'll ki-'

'Wait, Naboo, um.. much as it pains me to say this I don't think now's really the time, I'm on the roof with Nick and he's gonna show me around..'

'Oh.' He said, disappointed.

'Well, would you rather he was privy to our little.. discussion?'

'I guess not. I'll se-'

'What d'you mean you 'guess'?' Tara half-muttered, laughing.

'Well y'know, Nick's an attractive bloke.'

'I'm sure he'll be pleased to hear you say that.'

'I'm sure he'd be more pleased to hear you say it.'

She tutted, even though she knew Naboo was mostly joking. 'How many times, friends, _friends_.'

'I know Tara.' He said, in that way that if they were together, she knew he'd have kissed her cheek. '…Another time, maybe?'

'Definitely.' She smiled.

'Have fun looking around, say hi to Nick, and I'll see you when you get back. And well done on the job, I'm so proud of you.'

She smiled. 'Thank you. And will do, and I'll see you later on. Love you!'

'I love you too. Bye.'

She hung up, and turned to Nick. 'Naboo says hi. And also that you're 'an attractive bloke'.'

Nick looked impressed. 'Does he now? Think I'm in with a chance with him?'

She laughed as they made their way back to the staircase. 'You get away, you whore.'

**Again, apologies for not much happening. There'll be more, I promise! In the meantime, I need my writer-food, so please review!**


	37. Watch out, Big Ears

**Rargh. It's been an inexcusable amount of time considering I've had no college work for about two weeks, but I managed to finish this off last night, yay, so here it is (obviously). Thanks for all reviews, obviously, and also to Helen who kindly beta'd for me again. There was something else... Well, not sure if this was it, but it'll do - there's this singer called Kimya Dawson who I've recently discovered and fallen in love with, all the songs of hers I've heard are amazing but 'my rollercoaster' kinda reminds me of Tara, and there's gonna be a reference to it a little later on in the fic, although it'll probably end up in another AN.**

'Come on, if I hadn't driven by you'd still be chained to it today, bollock naked, painted blue with a sign saying 'I am a hodgeheg'!'

The room filled with laughter at poor Nick's expense. He'd taken her around a lot of the station already, and they were now sat in one of the studios with Tara's future colleagues, who had been packing up from their show.

All in all it had been a nice tour, the building was nice, bright but not harsh, funkily decorated but with a hint of history about it, the shows seemed cool, generally youth-orientated but not so much as to alienate others, and the people she'd been introduced to were especially friendly. In fact, if the whole place got any more pleasant, Tara would be worried she'd stumbled into some sort of children's programme, like Noddy. _If I see that bastard Big Ears I'll kill him. Never did reply to that letter._

'Come on Tara, we'd better get out of here so Lunchtime Lenny can get ready.'

'Oh ok. It was nice to meet you guys!' said Tara, standing up and waving before she followed Nick out.

'So,' she said, skipping to catch up with him like an excited child. 'Where are we going next?'

'I dunno, we've done all the best places, all that's really left is the lower floors, which are just admin and stuff mostly, but I guess you might need to go down there sometime.. besides, we need to go down for you to get out, so we might as well have a quick wander if you're up for it?'

'Sure, I've got nowhere to be.' _Well, not strictly true.. I'm sure Naboo could think of someplace for me to-_

'Cool, off we go then.' They took the stairs, which of course followed the tradition of being echoey, soulless, and odorous, although Tara was sure no-one would actually dare to- _perhaps after an office party…_

Nick held open the double doors for her and she slipped through. 'So like I said, this is admin, they deal with all the boring paperwork and stuff, they also take care of any complaints that we get, like when…'

She nodded, and Nick's voice faded as she studied the corridor. There was a weird feeling down here, a- _that's a weird-looking door_. It looked older than the rest, and completely out of place – whereas the others were of a fairly cheap and lightweight ilk, this was of a dark, heavy oak, carved around the edge and sporting a heavy brass doorknob.

'-which is why we had to get rid of the hamsters.' Nick finished, and suddenly Tara realised that she hadn't been listening to him.

'Sorry, missed that, what?' she turned to ask, and when she turned back the door had gone. Glancing quickly about them she saw that it was about six metres behind them, a distance which there was no way they could have waked in such a short time. As she pondered this, she once again ignored Nick, hearing only the word 'shoebox', but let him carry on this time.

They carried on, making a full circuit of the floor and were just about to go down again when someone burst through the double doors. 'Nick, there you are!'

'Oh hey Tom, this is-'

'Sorry mate, no time for niceties, Michelle wants to see you, apparently Lenny's guest is terrified of snakes and won't go anywhere near the studio while Sandra's python is in there and no-one's brave enough to take it out of it's tank.'

'Oh Christ…' muttered Nick, sweeping a hand over his hair. 'Look, Tara, I'm sorry to do this to you but d'you mind making your own way out? If I don't deal with this Lenny's gonna throw another fit again and last time it took four hours to get poor Amar's head out of-'

'It's fine, go, deal with that windy man, I'll give you a call tomorrow or something.'

She watched them rush back through the doors, opting to take the lift this time, then turned back to the corridor with the mysterious door. She walked back towards it, imagining Naboo's voice in her head telling her not to go wandering around trying to get into mysterious doors that she has no idea about. Thinking about this, she pulled out the long chain dangling around her neck, with a small charm hanging from it.

'_Take this,' Naboo had said, as she'd removed it from it's decorative box, admiring it, 'and I want you to wear it all the time, ok? It's a protective charm, it'll take care of you for me when I'm not around.'_

Tara had been so busy retrieving the charm from where it had got tangled in her top, and recalling Naboo giving it to her - steady now - that she'd once again gone right past the door, even though she'd been sure she'd stopped outside it. _Dammit, what is up with this thing?_

Walking back towards it, she began to recite the spell he'd made her phonetically learn for when she thought she might be in danger. 'Goo-roo-meh ning-in-meh, noo-gull-gull-ah, goo-roo-meh ning-in-meh-' _God I sound daft…_ 'cheh-meh-dull-dull-eh.'

She repeated it until she was absolutely sure she had it right, then advanced on the door, focusing on not letting it slip her past itself. (What? That totally makes sense..)

After what seemed like an age, and after the meaningless words she'd been chanting had lost all meaning, she was finally stood in front of the door. It felt as though it was humming with energy, and the doorknob was cold to her touch as she turned it, the door swinging open with a highly clichéd creak.

Beyond it was a dimly lit corridor, short, and with an overwhelming sense of the past.

_Right. So the Scooby-Doo style stupidest thing one could do would be to go down this totally unprepared…_

So off she went, chanting quietly as she held Naboo's charm in her hand.

**Lest I forget the importance of referencing, the phonetic spell thing Tara's reciting comes directly from the Buffy episode 'Two To Go' (and it apparently means 'sheild around us, never broken, shield surrounds us, keep us from harm', my thanks goes to where I found the transcript), and although it isn't deliberately inspired, this whole idea of an old door leading to a hidden part of the building kinda bears similarities to the Angel episode 'Waiting in the Wings', so I therefore bow at the feet of the genius that is Joss Whedon. Please review!**


	38. Shame about Pink Wafers

**Well well. How bloody long has it been, eh? I really am so sorry, I had the ideas floating around in my head in a baffling and confused manner and it took ages to try and get them straightened out and writeable, but I tried the classic writer's block cure, read lots of Douglas Adams, throw in one hell of a lot of references and bam! You've got yourself an update.**

**Hmm so, thanks of course to reviewers, to Helen for betaing, and especially to Hannah, who's writing and snippets inspired me to get off my ass and bloody well finish this. Love ya! Also, the 'explosive runes' thing is a reference to a webcomic called The Order Of The Stick by Rich Burlew (its genius and I totally recommend you check it out), and there's also a little nod to Narnia.**

_Well this is just downright odd. Corridors definitely shouldn't run for further than the length of the building. Nor should they run behind you after you close the door into them. Nope, definitely something funny going on._

Tara looked up and down the corridor, wondering what to do. It seemed that her options were rather limited; either stand here like some odd choice of security guard, or have a look around and see if she could find a way out.

She looked up and down again, this time wondering which way to start walking. _I'd flip a coin but I've only got a £2, and knowing this weird place it would probably disappear in mid air.._

After a quick session of 'eenie meenie miney mo', she opted to begin walking to her right. The featureless wooden beams, wooden ceiling, wooden floor, and wooden panels covering the walls, all dimly illuminated by old oil lamps (rebelliously made of brass, not wood), failed to hold her attention for long, and she was left to ponder the heavyweight intellectual matters of the day.

'Doooo youuuur balls hang low, can you swing 'em to and fro, can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow…'

The passageway went on and on, with no sign of.. anything at all really. No signs, no symbols, no hieroglyphics, no explosive runes prepared this- no wait I won't say that, the last thing I need is for this fic to explode in my face. There was nothing on the walls, essentially.

Apart from that upcoming door on the right. It was like the door she'd entered here through, and she approached it slowly. Surely it couldn't be a way out? What would be the point of this place if it were just an unnecessarily long and historic-y way from one door to the same door?

Considering this, she jumped as the door suddenly opened, and an old man shuffled out, starting as he looked up from his papers and saw her.

'Who're you?!' they both cried.

Tara, as the apparent intruder, decided it was her place to go first. 'I'm um, Tara, Noir, I'm hoping to start work here soon.'

'What are you doing here?' he asked, eyeing her with suspicion.

'Like I said I'm hoping to- you mean _here_ here, don't you?' He nodded. 'Well I was.. my friend Nick, he works here, was showing me around and we came past this door and it was weird, like it kept moving place or something, it didn't want to be opened, but then he, Nick that is, got called away and I'm of a curious sort, which has in the past been something of a disadvantage, burden even, you'd think I'd have learnt by now but there it is, so I came back to the door to see what it was and stuff, and now I've just been wandering along this corridor for ages.' Tara felt the time was ripe to take a deep breath before she passed out.

'You could see the door?'

'Yeah…'

'You aren't magical.' It was a statement, not a question, and it was hardly something she'd been expected to be told out of the blue. He may as well have said 'I've invented stockings for giraffes.'

'Um.. no..'

'And I suppose you have no idea of how you were able to see the door, of course.'

Tara wasn't really sure whether she was supposed to reply or not, but thought she'd better, if nothing else for the sake of politeness. 'Um.. afraid not, no.'

'No, didn't think so. You'd better come in then, I suppose.'

'…Thank you.'

He held the door open for her a little wider, and she stepped through. The room was surprising, to say the least. Although it had the wooden structure and lamps of the passageway, it was a lot busier, cluttered with paperwork, filing cabinets, tables, an old computer, and a calendar, as well as a wingback chair, kettle, small sink and a fireplace. On the wall, inexplicably, was a Futurama poster.

The man himself was hunched, but still slightly taller than Tara, with white hair. His clear blue eyes were careworn but sharp and keen, and he turned them on Tara as she spoke again.

'What is this place?'

'My office.' He said shortly, turning to put the kettle on. 'You have no magical experience at all?'

'Uh, no, not.. well, my b- fiancé's a shaman, would that make any difference?'

He frowned a little at her. 'Not ordinarily… unless he's been performing certain types of spells on you personally, but such things-'

'Oh, he brought me back from the dead pretty recently.' Tara wasn't entirely sure why she was telling this man, who's name she didn't even know, everything so readily, but she figured that anyone inhabiting such a place and who could immediately tell whether she was magical or not had to be pretty open ideas-wise.

'Really?' he asked, eyebrows raised. 'Impressive, very impressive.. tea?'

It took Tara a moment to realise that the kettle had boiled. 'Oh, yes, please.' As the old man occupied himself pouring scalding water over the mutilated remains of leaves which had been minding their own business in the sun and generally enjoying life in India before being picked, dried, butchered in a manner which would make Sweeny Todd proud and then as a final humiliation crammed into bags and sold in Somerfield for one pound twenty-nine, Tara helped herself to a seat on a small stool she'd found buried underneath a pile of Radio Times.

He handed her a cup of tea as he seated himself on the chair opposite, taking a sip of the tea. 'Thank you for choosing to sit there, I do find getting down to that level and then returning to my feet rather than the floor rather a challenge these days. I only have the one because it's exceedingly rare that I receive visitors, especially those who get in this far. My name's Rupert by the way, I apologise if I were a little gruff before, I have a lot on my mind, but I do find that tea forces one to take a moment, reflect, and generally be better disposed to the world and it's inhabitants. You asked what this place was, yes?'

'Uh, yeah, that's right.' Tara was a little surprised by the sudden splurge of conversation, but went with it. After all, she had friends with far stranger eccentricities than Rupert here, it was just a matter of getting used to new people's ways.

'Essentially, it's a doorway to the past. All this, what you see and walked through, is how the building used to be in the years gone by, before it became Yawn FM's base. Although I do like what they've done with the upstairs, I do find myself more drawn to this classic style. Used to be a publishers you know.

'But you want to know why it exists. Well, Tara isn't it, my full name is Rupert York, along with three partners I helped set up business here, the 'Yawn' coming from our surnames, Adams, Wilson, Norton and of course York. I'm afraid that this is my hideout, I'm not supposed to be here anymore, in more ways than one. My partners all sold their shares and moved to other companies, they're all gone now of course, but I remained here, seeing things through their ups and downs and keeping everything running.

'However, the time eventually came when there was talk of my retirement. I was getting on, so naturally people thought my ideas were as well, and stations such as YAWN FM constantly strive to maintain a young image, appeal to this 'teenage market' and whatnot, but I wasn't ready to give up just yet, oh no. Biscuit? I have some here somewhere…'

'Oh, n- actually, what've you got?'

Rupert had a rummage around cupboards and a few filing cabinets, even disappearing into what seemed to be a wardrobe only to emerge moments later clutching Hobnobs and brushing what appeared to be a few stray flakes of snow from his shoulders. 'Here we are, I knew there were some somewhere. Fresh out of Pink Wafers though, shame.'

'Oh, that's not a problem. My brother eats loads of the things, but they don't taste the same to me as when we were little.'

'Oh yes, yes, quite understand the feeling.. do forgive me, I've forgotten just where I was.'

'You were over there.'

'Oh yes, of course. Anyway, I wasn't ready to give up my post, but I knew they'd get rid of me somehow. Luckily, I'd studied magic when I was younger, gap year you know, met a young chap, Richard or something, played guitar a lot, wanted to find out how to preserve life that by all rights should have ended long ago, secrets I picked up as well, I say secrets, more of a location…. So, along with some basic knowledge I'd gathered I did some research, and came up with a plan.

'I suppose you haven't a great deal of knowledge of how businesses and companies work, have you? Being so young?'

'Uh, no, I'm an artist as well so I don't really go in for the whole 'corporate' thing.'

'Ah yes, yes, well, people working in large companies don't actually think all that much. About anything at all that's even slightly important, but especially about who they're actually working for, as far as they're concerned they work for their boss, who works for their boss, who works for their boss, and so on and so forth, until one big boss works for an owner. The owners of the company don't have to be seen, or even known properly about, everyone just thinks that somewhere along the line someone's talking to someone who is actually in charge, and if a company grows and develops over decades, employees assume that it's being handed down from owner to owner, generation to generation, as long as they've got a manager to report to, they're happy to be unhappy.

'I've been the owner of a company here for many many years now, oh of course it's had changes in staff, changes in name and even changes in purpose, but there's always been something, and I've always been in charge. I've also, due to my age, required for people not to know that I'm the man in charge, so I've had managers working for me instead, young 'executive' types, talk a lot of nonsense but blend into the environment well. Although with now with the radio station, I've had to change the design a little, keep with the theme of things, but.. excuse me, if I'm going to carry on I must have more tea.'

Tara nodded, then looked up. 'Did you just say design?'

'Design, yes. Do you really think that with no companies wanting me in charge, I'd get managers interested either? No no no, I made vessels you see, stooges, they play the role of manager and run things how I want them run, but they aren't human at all, simply shells, holograms, puppets, I've experimented with a few varieties over the years. Of course, they too have to change from time to time to keep things from getting suspicious, I fire or retire them, or get them involved in sex scandals (and let me tell you, that's a fun thing to plan, especially when you get as old as I), but each time a new one comes in with exciting new ideas, it's still someone I've created; everyone just thinks the head of the company has hired someone new.'

'And no-one's ever realised, figured this out?'

'Certainly not. Like I said, people don't think anymore, they have others pretend to do it for them, and besides, I take great pride in my work, a lot of energy goes in to creating and running them, and providing the knowledge and creativity in actually keeping the business running and fresh. A couple of my managers have even had people fall in love with them, if you want to talk obstacles, well.'

'That's incredible… how long have you been doing this?'

'Hmm, let's see now… I believe Wilson left in… and then they tried.. I'd estimate at around… around one hundred and twenty years.'

'Wow.' Tara said. 'Wow.' She added. She was on the verge of adding a third 'wow', but then decided against it, growing up with Vince had taught her that some things, like puzzles of sky and 'the Lumberjack Look' got old really quickly. 'Why do you keep doing it? Surely it's a lot of stress and everything, especially after all this time?'

'Oh no no no, this is my life, I've put everything into this place. Of course, one day when the time is right, I'll let it go, but for now… I still love it.'

'Ah, well then, fair play to you!' she smiled, as he got up and shuffled about.

'Um.. no offence Rupert, I know I asked, and it's certainly a fascinating story, but… why are you telling me all this? I mean, I only just got here, how do you know you can trust me?'

'Oh, it's not a matter of trust, I'm well aware you could be absolutely anyone, but it's not as if you'll be able to tell anyone, so-'

'Sorry, what?'

'You won't be telling anyone. You can't leave this place, only I can go back and forth because I control the doorway, its like a membrane, once you come in here, you can never le-' **What? What?! Fine, fine, I **_**won't**_** do the whole radio series thing. Spoilsports.** '-actually, on second thoughts, you may go.'

'Oh. Oh, thanks very much, I probably should be getting back actually, I- oh.' Tara had looked at her watch to check the time, but it had stopped.

'Oh yes, it'll do that, but don't worry, it'll be fine and at the right time when you get out. I believe it is sometime around half past three.'

'Ooh god yeah, I really should be getting going, Na-' A thought struck her. 'Hey, you know you said 'location' for how to stay young.. wouldn't happen to be the fountain of youth, would it? On Xooberon?'

'You know about that as well?'

'Oh yeah, my fiancé's Xooberonian, you know anyone called Naboo?'

'Well, I know a Banoo, but.. oh no, I do yes, Naboo, black hair, turban, endearing lisp.'

'That's him, yeah!'

'Oh my, Naboo engaged… well, congratulations my dear, he's a fine man.'

'Thank you.' She beamed. It felt like longer than it actually was since she'd left Naboo that morning; she couldn't wait to get back to him.

'One thing, two actually, before you go – I'm sure you go shopping rather more often than I do, would you mind picking up the latest Futurama DVD for me please? I can't stand the people and the noise in that MVH place, I've even tried ordering it but of course they can never find this damn place…'

Tara laughed a little. 'Of course, no problem. D'you mind if I watch it first?'

'Of course, of course, I've waited long enough, little while more won't hurt.' Rupert led her to the door, and with a wave of his hand, summoned a door back into Yawn.

Tara began to thank him, then remembered something. 'Oh, wait you said there were two things, what was the other one?'

'Hmm? Oh, yes, well I' m letting you go, even though you know everything.. I like my life here, in charge but in private, so-'

'I won't tell anyone about you.' Smiled Tara.

**Aaand it's time for Guess the Celebrity Rupert Studied Magic with! Tum-ta-ta-tumm! Answers in reviews please, I've had complaints from Royal Mail about all the signed postcards clogging up the place.**


	39. Beware kamikaze magpies

**And you all thought I'd be ages updating again, pah! I just like to keep you on your toes. The next chapter is pretty much all written so that should be up soonish as well, just got to give it the once-over. Anyhoo, thanks as always to Helen for betaing, I'd like to dedicate this (short and largely pointless) chapter to my lovely wifey Hannah who I'm glad is having a great time at uni, to Beth who once again is without internets and who I miss very much (thank god for texts though), and to Jamie, who has been keeping me going while the other two haven't been around! **

The clouds had been kind enough to part over London, shining down on the litter, homeless, and pigeons. It also illuminated an unpopular 'attraction', which claimed to be a doorway into 'The Unexpected World of Opposite-Land'. Of course, in a moment of stunning cunning, the creator of this doorway had reckoned that the very thing people immediately expect when presented with such a title was for the world beyond to be completely opposite; in fact, the world beyond was completely the same, due to the idea that it was the opposite of their expectation. Therefore it was a wonderfully creative enterprise, but largely unsuccessful in the money-making stakes.

Tara wandered past, completely ignoring the shabby entrance as she replaced her mobile in her bag, having just got off the phone to Naboo, who had been called away to Jupiter to take care of some stray giraffes (apparently they liked the combination of gasses, it was the only way they could put up with watching people make models of them out of balloons).

Reaching the door to the flat, she found an usual amount of glitter on the pavement outside, even more so than when a pair of particularly dazzling trousers of Vince's exploded after a dozen kamikaze magpies were drawn to them on their way to Waterstones – books simply weren't sparkly enough for their tastes.

'What on earth happened outside?' she asked upon entering. 'Wait, on second thoughts, what on earth's going on in here?'

The living room was also covered in glitter, along with what appeared to be slush puppy. Vince and Howard were standing over one of Naboo's cauldrons, or rather, the remains of one of Naboo's cauldrons, which seemed to have been hovering over a green flame.

They looked shiftily at each other. 'We were…'

'It was…'

'Let me guess,' she said, dropping her bag down on a relatively clean and dry part of the floor. 'You were trying to make glittery chilled drinks to sell to people outside Toys R Us?'

'The Entertainer, actually.' Said Vince sheepishly.

'Uh-huh. You know Naboo's gonna kill you when he gets home, right?'

'Yeah, we wondered about that… d'you think you could…'

'Ohh no, no way, I'm not playing Arthur Weasley for you again, you're on your own.'

'Pleeeease?'

She laughed. 'Don't give me that, no. I'll get you some of that stuff Naboo used when that chilli came alive, but that's all.'

She retrieved the magic dust, which gathered all the particles of what you wanted to clear away into one big bundle for easy disposal; however, it was important to be clear on what you wished to be rid of – if the dust was in a bad mood and you asked it to clear away 'all this mess', it would be likely you'd end up without a house, clothes, hair, and sometimes even a face.

Safely enclosed in the relative safety of her bedroom, Tara perched on the edge of the mattress, then noticed an envelope propped up on the desk. Reasonably sure of what it would be, she smiled, and leant forward to pick it up. Sure enough, it was a card from Naboo, congratulating her on her interview and telling her much he loved her.

She reached up to a bookshelf and brought down one of the large scrapbooks that resided up there; of all of them, this was her favourite. It was filled with cards, doodles, photos, poetry, lyrics and scraps of paper, all memories or messages of love from each other. Tara stuck in the card next to a picture of Pon and Zi that she'd printed off, then flicked back through the pages until Naboo burst through the door, calling 'you'll be paying for a new one!' behind him.

'Hey. How were the giraffes?'

'Nightmare, they kept asking for vegan lollypops. How're you?'

'Naboo we've been through this twice already this afternoon, I'm still good.' She laughed.

He smiled, wrapping an arm around her. 'I was thinking, you fancy going out somewhere for the day tomorrow? Not far, but…'

'I'd love to.' She smiled back, leaning into him. 'Sorry about Vince and Howard, another money-making venture. I got them some of that dust of yours to clean up with, gave it to Howard rather than Vince though.'

'Good call. It's alright in there now, I think it took the ice as well but that's no big deal, it's just my cauldron, I'll have to go back to Xooberon for a new one.'

'Oh that reminds me, I met an old friend of yours at YAWN today, Rupert?'

'Oh yeah, I remember Rupert, didn't know he was down there. How is he?'

'Well, he's living in some sort of time-warp, running a company and eating pink wafers, it seems.'

'About the same then.'

**Please review, my scrummy darlings!**


	40. The Big 40

**Another quiker update, aren't I good to y'all! No need to thank lovely Helen for betaing this time as she's off to Brixton to see the boosh live (grr), so I've had to cast me own pathetic eye over this'un. There are those who may say this chapter bears some similarity to part of the book 'So Long and Thanks for all the Fish'. I, however, couldn't possibly comment.**

Each holding things for a picnic, Naboo and Tara strolled had-in-hand through an unnamed park in London; It was unnamed partly for the sake of laziness, and partly because this author doesn't know the name of all that many London parks except Hyde (and because similarities with a work of the great Douglas Adams have already been touched upon, some disassociation is required). For further non-information, see the A/N.

The sun beat down on them, on other lovers doing things that proper English folk would pointedly ignore, on teenagers trying to line up ducks to practice BMX jumps over, on children screaming for another lollypop, on men wearing socks and sandals, and on pensioners who, although English, were too old to bother pointedly ignoring everything and proceeded to bitch about it instead. Yep, this was the English summertime alright, and they loved it.

Meandering along the pathway, they made up bizarre stories about the people they passed (some of which, though they did not know it, were true. Don't worry though, the lizard escaped unharmed), and at times had to lean upon each other for support as they became weak with laughter. It was after a particularly romantic one of these stories, featuring a butterfly and a Frisbee, that Tara tried to kiss Naboo while they continued walking, and she ended up walking backwards in front of him as they became involved in some sort of bizarre three-legged race that was one leg short. Or one leg too many, depending on how you looked at it.

Breaking apart, they selected a tree under which to spread their blankets. No, not a euphemism. They sorted out the food they'd brought, but didn't eat yet, instead snuggling up together against the tree-trunk in the dappled light, happy to continue people-watching for a while.

Tara was, as usual, lying against him with her head on his shoulder. Happy as he was with this position, Naboo did sometimes wonder why it was her favourite to lie in. He supposed that with most people, especially men, she was smaller than them, she fitted in rather nicely, but she was the same size as Naboo, pretty much. It was just a habit, he supposed, but perhaps not so much a habit of best fit as maybe one of comfort. He knew Tara had far more insecurities than she liked to let on, even to him much of the time, perhaps it was a subconscious matter of security to have someone's arms around her, their chest to lean on, their heart to listen to. A safe anchor in her otherwise largely unpredictable world.

Not that it really mattered of course. They were still a perfect fit.

Tara had brought her camera with her, intending to take some more pictures of the two of them. She already had an album or two full, but always wanted more. Naboo didn't mind at all, he actually rather liked it about her, her wish to preserve everything. Besides, apart from the photos of himself with Tara there weren't really that many of him, as posing for photos isn't a particularly shamanic thing to do (although since he'd been with Tara, he'd done a lot of things orthodox types wouldn't consider very shamanic). Except that time in the seventies…

His thoughts were interrupted by Tara holding the camera up in front of them and telling him to smile. He did so, then pulled her up to kiss him as she took a couple more pictures, although passion rather than tradition dictated the angle and framing of these.

As Naboo's hand slid beneath her top they began to get a little carried away, and only broke apart when a mother walked past with her two small children, tutting. Tara giggled a little and Naboo smiled at her, stroking her hair, before pulling her in for another kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, then pushed herself up and off of him to set the camera up on it's tripod and reaching for a strawberry.

She placed half of it in her mouth then leaned towards him, the message in her eyes clear. He bit into the other half, his lips pressing firmly against hers as they both tried not to let any juice escape. Unfortunately this attempt went rather badly, as they were both focused rather more on each other than the eating of the strawberry, and Tara declared that they should stop before she got juice all over her new top.

Naboo instructed her to close her eyes as he reached for more food, then got her to lie back with her head in his lap as he fed her.

Tara felt the shadow of the leaves playing over her legs, the warm breeze playfully lifting the hem of her skirt as if to say 'go on, just a peek', the juice of the mango running sweetly down her throat, the vibrations of the ground as a Labrador bolted past them in hot pursuit of a garish pink ball.

But mostly she felt Naboo, the distant rhythm of his heart, the warmth of his skin, the.. bulge next to her ear, and the love in his touch. This was bliss.

She was suddenly jolted from her thoughts by a bout of swearing from one of the nearby BMX-ing teens, who had just received a nasty nip from a particularly peeved duck.

She smiled, gazing up into Naboo's eyes for a while as he popped juicy green grapes into her mouth, then sat up. Piling some food onto one of the brightly coloured IKEA plates that Vince had tried to insist they use as ordinary tableware, she glanced up as she heard the shutter on her camera close. That was good. She'd set it up to take photographs at random intervals, so she had some nice natural ones of herself and Naboo, but she was glad to see that it was working.

Soon lunchtime turned to afternoon. Afternoon turned to late afternoon, and late afternoon turned to early evening. However, early evening did not turn back into lunchtime, as this is a Mighty Boosh fanfic and not a Monty Python film. So if you're looking for Michael Palin and Eric Idle you're in the wrong place (they're locked away safe in my sex slave cupboard). The natural light began to dim, and Naboo and Tara decided to head home before they were subjected to the depressing orange glow of streetlamps.

Just before they moved however, Naboo squeezed Tara a little, and she tilted her head back a little to kiss his neck.

'I love you.'

'I love you too.'

**Please review!**


	41. Handcuffed to Howard

**Hello darlings! Gah. I've been ages, and I'm very sorry, had epic writers block and absolutely no time :( I usually do a Christmas fic as well and again, I just haven't had the time or inspiration so this will have to suffice instead. I'd like to thank AdeleBird for PMing me and giving me the (nice) kick up the arse I needed to get myself to really focus on just this, and as you can see it worked so you have her to thank for that! Also of course to Helen for being lovely and betaing for me, to Hannah who's making me proud being a clever-type-person at university, to Beth who is completely wonderful and who I plan to kidnap one day, and to Jamie who's just made of awesome. And of course to the rest of you lovely reviewers, thank you very much I love you all! And of course - have a merry christmas and a happy new year.**

'You said you had the keys!'

'Why would I have the keys to someone else's handcuffs?'

'Why would you have someone else's handcuffs in the first place?'

'I dunno, why have you got that bicycle pump under your bed, I haven't seen you cycle anywhere since that dog chased you because you had a bit of bacon stuck to your clip things!'

Luckily Howard escaped from the embarrassment of telling Vince why there was a pump under his bed as at that very moment Naboo and Tara arrived home, trying to balance bags and hampers of leftover food, shut the front door and stay upright while still holding hands, completely and sickeningly loved-up.

'Hi guys! Ho- what on earth's happened to you?!' Tara laughed, seeing Vince and Howard stood sheepishly together, joined at the wrist by fluffy leopard print handcuffs.

'A… misunderstanding.' Replied Howard.

'We were hoping you might be able to get them off us, Naboo.' Asked Vince hopefully, widening his bright blue eyes.

Naboo smirked at them. 'I dunno if I want to. It'd make an interesting plotline.'

'S'a bit Family Guy.' Said Tara, wrinkling her nose.

'Hmm.' Agreed Naboo. 'Alright then, where's the key?'

They stared at him.

'What?'

'If we had the key, why do you think we'd need your help?'

Naboo shrugged. 'What do you want me to do then?'

'Wh- magic it off or something!'

'Magic's a very serious business Vince, I can't just be mucking about taking handcuffs off the pair of you, shamanism's heavily regulated.'

'Balls it is, what about last week when you couldn't find your wallet and made that shopkeeper think he owed you twenty quid change?'

'He did owe me twenty quid in change, those Skips are a right ripoff!'

Tara had been sorting out the food she and Naboo had brought back while this madness had been occurring, and now announced that she was going away from London for a couple of days before her job at YAWN started and she was 'trapped in this urban nightmare of a place.'

'Where are you gonna go?'

'I dunno.' She pondered. 'Somewhere with shrews.'

She wandered out to pack her duffle bag as Vince turned his full attention to Naboo.

'Naboo!'

'What?'

'You- you're wearing normal stuff!'

'Yeah…'

'But you never wear normal stuff!'

'I've got normal clothes Vince.'

'…Really?'

'Yeah.'

'Oh.' He was still staring in slight disbelief. 'I've never seen you in them.'

'Well, its just this actually, bought it at a festival in 1992.'

'And those?' asked Howard, indicating Naboo's feet, on which he wore sandals with – yep, you guessed it – socks. 'Even I know that's wrong.'

'Tara dared me.' He grinned. 'Said she'd give me a quid for every shake of the head they got.'

'How much did you make?'

'Four pound forty.'

'Forty?'

'One of the shakes was from someone also wearing socks and sandals so she said she had to make a sixty percent reduction.'

'Naboo?' called a voice from the bedroom. Presumably it belonged to Tara, it certainly sounded like it, but one couldn't always be sure about such things and indeed, many years past a young prince had mistakenly thought that the voice calling him to come to bed belonged to his secret lover but in fact came from his mother, who had a cold at the time; the event that very nearly transpired would have been highly embarrassing not only for the monarchy (who are already embarrassing enough) but also for the prince, who due to some interesting time dilations and family abnormalities would have become his own grandmother.

Naboo ambled away, leaving Vince and Howard alone again, still handcuffed together.

'What are we supposed to do now?'

'Bollo? He's pretty strong, he could probably break them off us.'

'Not for me he wouldn't.'

'He would for me.' Grinned Vince, earning himself a glare from Howard.

'Whatever alright, I don't wanna have to wait until Bollo gets home from wherever the hell he is, I want these off as soon as possible. I need the loo.' He added quietly.

Vince wrinkled up his nose in distaste. 'Right, so what're we gonna do about it? We can't just hang around until they rust.'

'Definitely not, these are plastic.' Howard cast a glare at them too, apparently mistrustful of a material so dissimilar to corduroy.

Vince lifted his wrist, dragging Howard's with it, for a closer examination. 'Oi Howard, I know, how about this – we get my straighteners on them, they'll straighten these little round links up and that'll undo them and we'll be free!'

Howard stared at him for a moment. 'That must have been the single stupidest thing you could possibly have said.'

Vince blinked, a little hurt. 'Alright, I don't see you coming up with anything! Besides, I coulda said that we smother them with natural yoghurt and wait for all the little bacteria to eat away at them couldn't I?'

Howard shrugged a little at him. 'Fine. But we still aren't any closer…. Unless we use your straighteners to melt them?'

'Nah, they're hot but they're not that hot and anyway, it'd much the straighteners up with all sorts of plastic gunk and stink the place out – remember when I accidently left that plastic bead in my hair after that fair thing came to town.'

'Carnival, Carnival  
Throwing rings and plastic balls  
Try to win a prize  
Beat the scorn in Carnie's eyes  
Candyfloss monster  
Rearing from my tummy pouch, with your cheating tapas face  
Rollercoaster  
Rollercoaster  
Up and down and round and ouch!  
Hitting teeth on safety bar, won't get you very far  
Comp-en-sa-tion  
Hoards of lawyer ticks  
Nip  
Nip  
Nip  
Gettway from me  
You're a vampire freak'

'Woah.' Said Vince. 'I may have to sit down from that.'

'Not so much a crimp as an odyssey my friend.'

'Odyssey into what exactly?'

'Into the world of fairground, carnival and travelling circus crimps. It's a noble job Vince, don't you ever forget that.'

'I suppose you were a carnie too once were ya?'

'I've done many things, things of which you can only dream.'

'I dunno, I dream of pretty weird things, last night there was this badger trying to pinch my SuperNoodles because a zip had stolen his teeth.'

'What happened then?'

'I tried to offer him some Pasta'N'Sauce, I really like those noodles, but apparently he had some sort of intolerance and went to lobby Michael Cain instead.'

***

Sometime later, after Bollo's return from Primark and Vince and Howard's subsequent release from the handcuffs, all but Naboo lounged around the living room, all looking awfully lethargic and generally unemployed. Howard and Bollo were busy hating themselves for watching Jeremy Kyle (on catchup as well, the scum), and Vince made lists and scrapbooks of all his clothes as Tara flicked through that day's metro. 'Oh wow!' she exclaimed, then laughed. 'There's a test in here from the thirties for husbands to rate how good their wives are! Naboo, get in here!'

He strolled in, holding a half-melted ladle. 'What?'

'What've you- never mind, check this out!' She handed him the paper. 'I know we're not married yet, but let's do it!'

He scanned the article and test, laughing. 'You sure? I might decide I don't want to marry you after all.'

'…would you rather I found one for how good a husband you'd be?'

'So what's the first question?'

''Has meals on time' – no. 'Dresses for breakfast' – no. I have a feeling this isn't going to go well.'

Despite redeeming herself with the full ten points on 'reacts with pleasure and delight to marital congress' ('Does it only go up to ten?' 'You think a lot of yourself! ...We'll put twelve'), Tara fared rather poorly, particularly for wearing red nail varnish, 'flirts with other men at parties or in restaurants' ('but not in a properly flirty way! Just… being a little.. friendly..' 'I know') and 'putting cold feet on husband at night to warm them'.

'So that's… minus nine..' said Tara, calculating her score. 'Below 'very poor'. I think perhaps you should look elsewhere for a wife. Maybe Hackney.. or some other, far distant planet or something!'

A shadow flitted for the briefest of seconds across Naboo's face, but this was nothing unusual as a dimwitted pigeon had become enamoured with the flying carpet and would often take to hanging around the flat windows crying 'wherefore art thou Allied?' As soon as it passed, Naboo laughed, stroking her hair a little. 'Don't be ridiculous Tara. You're-' he consulted the scoring system of the test '-'very superior.''

**Please review xxx**


	42. Big Leg and Leotards

**Hello my gorgeous loves! And happy new year! Hope it's bloody terrific for the lot of you. Uhh what do I need to say… thank you of course, as always, for reviews, they're lovely and highly appreciated, thanks to Helen for betaing this too. I need to acknowledge that the 'herring sandwich' thing was inspired by one of my usual inspirations – nope, not Joss Whedon, that other genius wonder-person, Douglas Adams. It's from Mostly Harmless. And the S.T.O.N.E.D thing, I owe that to Hannah, so thank you wifey!**

**Also to say, myself and the lovely Bombilious are having a go at co-writing a spinoff Tara fic, it doesn't even have a title or anything yet but keep an eye out because I'm sure I speak for both of us when I say we'd love to know what you think, when it does get posted! Anyway, enough of my shameless self-promotion, on with the new chapter!**

'Oi, you two.'

Vince and Howard turned from where they'd been watching Blackadder as Naboo addressed them so politely. He'd been in a bad mood for a couple of hours, since realising that the 'Big Leg' DVD he'd let Tara borrow for her trip away from London for a couple of days also contained Yakoo's educational DVD from FRANK, which he wanted back tonight so he could revise in time for Kirk's birthday party; it was in Naboo's care because Yakoo was ashamed of his naivety (he'd had to buy the answers to the Substance Testing Orders for Nondenominational Enchanters and the Demonic exam in shaman college) and Naboo wasn't one to pass up an opportunity for future blackmailing material, should such circumstances arise. Tara was due to call later though, so perhaps he could find out where she was and get it from her, although part of the point of her going away was so that she could call when they were apart, and-

'Naboo, you've been stood there for a full minute in silence now, do you want something or not?'

'Eh? Oh right, yeah, I wanted to call a house meeting.'

'House meeting! House meeting!' Cried Bollo, waving his arms in the air Young Ones style.

The others neglected to join him in this homage, and just stared at him, a little freaked.

Bollo sat down and kept quiet.

'Right, so we need more money coming in, for the moment I've told BT that British Gas have their money by mistake, British Gas that Thames Water have theirs, Thames Water that Powergen have theirs and Powergen that BT have theirs and that they should all take it up with each other. It should keep them busy for a while but it won't work forever.'

'I dunno Naboo,' said Vince. 'Them people are weird, like robots, you tell them something like that and they'll just keep going round and round and round until you give one a herring sandwich.'

'No Vince, you're underestimating the power and efficiency of the great British utilities system, you see when-'

'ANYWAY,' said Naboo loudly, interrupting Howard before he really had a chance to begin, 'I was thinking, all these things you make, do you ever actually sell them?'

'Sometimes, for a bit.' Replied Vince. 'But it's only in nightclubs and other people's shops and that, they don't like it much.'

'Yeah exactly. I thought perhaps we'd get a shop or something, I can make money selling potions… lots of 'em aren't really the sorta stuff people will buy over the counter, but it'll be a good base at least. And you can sell the clothes or whatever you make, even if they're a bit naff you've got the charisma to make people want them.'

'And the things I make too, they could go in the shop, I think you'll find they attract a more discerning sort of client than the rabble that go after Vince.'

'Howard your stuff's always beyond naff and you've got no charisma. I'm not trying to insult you, it's just true.' Shrugged Naboo, making Howard wish Tara was at home to stand up for him, or at least smile encouragingly. 'If you wanna put stuff in this shop, if we do it, I want to check it all first.'

Howard slumped back into the sofa.

'What about shop downstairs?' grunted Bollo. 'They been shut down for months.'

'Yeah, what happened to them?' asked Vince.

Naboo and Bollo shrugged and Howard, being the only one who knew, opened his mouth then shut it again with an air of smugness; if Naboo was going to be like that to him, they could just go on wondering forever what happened.

Naboo just looked at him for a moment. 'Yeah, like it matters. Do you at least know how we can find out about renting it or something?'

Howard scatted casually under his breath, but stopped abruptly when Naboo made red sparks crackle from his fingertips.

'Alright alright fine, there's a number somewhere, I'll get it.'

Howard got up and lumbered off to the phone book, as Vince's brow creased. It uncreased milliseconds later as Vince remembered his crippling fear of wrinkles and ran his fingers across his forehead just to check, and asked ''ere Naboo, if we don't have any money, how're we gonna pay for a whole shop?'

'The shaman council will probably give us some money for it as long as they can take a cut of the profits. They've been looking for long-term funding since Lucozade pulled out, we need money to re-vamp the headquarters.'

'Re-vamp them how?'

'Vampires, tame ones as security guards. They've gotten lax and need replacing but they don't come cheap.'

'Right.'

'Got it!' cried Howard triumphantly, emerging from the organisational nightmare that was their phonebook. He felt proud of himself, last time he'd gone near it the mess of paperclips, highlighters, string, pens and bonbons had given him a panic attack and he'd had to lie down in his darkened room and listen to soft jazz until he calmed down.

He stepped up to the phone, and was just about to pick up the receiver to dial when it began ringing. He jumped back, tripped over the step and landed on Bollo. The gorilla pushed him back to his feet and he approached the phone again, trying to convince his brain that it wouldn't be the people he was just about to ring calling him. '..H-hello?'

'Are you alright Howard?' asked Tara from the other end of the line. 'You sound scared.'

'Oh, Tara, it's you.' He said, relieved. 'No, it's just… never mind. You want Naboo, yeah?'

'Yeah, unless Vince wants me first?'

'Vince, d'you wanna talk to Tara?' Howard asked over his shoulder.

Vince shrugged. 'Not really.'

'There's love for you!' called Tara from the phone.

'Well whaddya want me to say?' Vince called back. Howard sighed, holding up the phone so they could speak easier.

'Well, I… you could… yeah, fair enough. Nabooooooooo are you there?'

Naboo got up and took the phone. 'Hey. Yeah. Yeah I am. Yeah, hang on.' He took the phone base from the wall and trailed the long cord along the short corridor and into his bedroom, where he shut the door firmly, locking it. He then unlocked it, opened it, pulled the cord through a little further so it'd reach the bed, then closed and locked it again.

Howard Vince and Bollo watched this, looked at each other and shrugged, being unaware of what had almost transpired on the roof of YAWN and the subsequent plans Naboo and Tara had made.

They sat back down in front of the telly.

'So Howard, what did happen to that shop downstairs?'

Howard shrugged. 'Does it matter? It's nothing that'll affect anything if we end up down there.'

'Aw c'mon Howard, you've got me all interested now! It's worse than that time Bollo wore those orange pants for a whole month and wouldn't tell us why.'

'Yeah why was that Bollo?' asked Howard. 'They smelt really odd.'

Vince snorted with laughter. 'Why were you smelling Bollo's pants?'

'No, I, they just smelt really-'

'Stay away from Bollo pants Howard.' Grunted the gorilla.

'I wasn't smelling your pants!' Howard's loud cry was heard on the street below, where a seventy-six year old woman mistook it as coming from the young man she'd just passed.

'Guilty conscience lad? I'll thank you to stay away from my unmentionables boy!'

The poor innocent bystander's yelps of pain as he was beaten with a laden handbag didn't reach the ears of those back in the flat, where Howard was proposing a new idea that he thought would go down well in a shop.

Vince and Bollo cowered on the sofa, hands over their ears; oddly, there was no sign of Naboo, usually he'd have been the first to complain. He must have been busy. The cacophony of noise came from the surprisingly sophisticated contraption Howard held in front of him, which was emitting an ear-raping explosion of jazz, which, if you could bear to listen closely, sounded slightly familiar.

Howard finally shut it off and beamed expectantly at them.

'What the hell was that?!'

'That Vince, was the Jazzinator 900, it converts any song you want into a hot jazz tune. Know what that was?'

'Apocalypse?' Suggested Bollo.

'Radiators attacking stray cats?' Asked Vince.

Howard glared at them. 'That was a jazz version of 'Don't wanna miss a thing.''

Their jaws dropped. 'You turned Aerosmith into jazz?! Howard how could you?'

'I was giving it a new flavour, a whole new lease of life Vince!'

'That's ridiculous, the only people who're gonna be wanting jazz versions of stuff are muppets like you, they're not gonna be coming into the sorta shop we'll be running are they?'

'Actually, I was hoping that-'

'No, no jazz freaks or jazz freak's inventions in shop. Drive away real customers.' Said Bollo.

'Yeah Bollo's right, we can't be taking risks like that, we've gotta get solid ideas or we'll go bust, Naboo and Bollo are already almost reduced to doing magic acts on the street!'

'That right. Naboo must be assistant though.'

'Shouldn't Naboo be the magician? He'd be able to describe it better and that.'

'Naboo look better in sparkly leotard. Has the legs.'

**Reviews are love so please send some! **


	43. Owl Beaks and Odds

**Hello darlings! Sorry this one's taken me a little while, luckily my oneshot appears to have cured my block on this! Thanks of course to Helen for betaing, Douglas Adams for being wonderful and providing the inspiration for the first little bit, uumm... oh, the alarm clock (the bit in italics) is from an actual Stephen Fry as Jeeves alarm clock I used to have which I still haven't gotten around to replacing, and thanks to the gorgeous Beth for the title 'Put A Hat On An Angry Badger' (you'll see). I'm sure there's something I've forgotten but oh well.**

The sun that morning was bright and cheery as it peered over the rooftops and peeped in a widening crack through the window into the bedroom. Inching over a small area of floor it soon encountered a wooden bedside table in which one of the drawers was half open. The earliness of the hour meant that the sunlight didn't feel it suitable to probe into the depths of this just at the moment, and instead continued it's journey across the room to the bed, where two unclothed figures lay wrapped in a crumpled duvet, a little tangled in it and each other.

The alarm sounding meant that much of the rest of the sun's journey went unnoticed, which is a shame as it uncovered some rather interesting things as it passed over the other bedside table, as well as a set of shelves and a wardrobe, and was only commented upon once as one of the figures observed how pleasant its warming glow was.

'_(Birdsong which roughly translates as 'who's this wanker with the microphone?' 'I dunno, but keep singing, we might get royalties.')… Good morning sir.__ I'm delighted you have survived another night. May I add my own congratulations to the roar of the world's approval? Thank you, sir.'_

Tara's hand emerged from somewhere within the confusion, and probed for the 'snooze' button, finally finding it. 'Morning Stephen my love. Now shut up for ten minutes.'

She rolled back over to Naboo, kissing his shoulder lightly. Since she'd worked out the issues she'd had since being resurrected, she and Naboo had been having sex regularly again, almost more than they had before, apparently due in a large part to Tara's determination to catch up on lost time. So strong in fact was this determination that on the day she arrived back at the flat from her break away she barely even looked around to check that no-one else was home before announcing 'Naboo, let's have sex' and all but leaping on him.

Now he stirred, murmuring 'no Tara, not again. I'll die.'

She laughed a little into his chest. 'Tell me about it. Wake up.'

'Do I have to?'

'Yes. Because if you don't wake up, I won't wake up, or get up, or have a shower, or go to work, or make money or have a home. All because you wouldn't wake up. Is that the sort of thing you can live with?'

'I suppose not.' He said, opening his eyes. 'After all, where would we put all this stuff?'

'We could set it out on the street like in that Flying Circus sketch?'

'Be cold though.'

'Yeah.'

Ten minutes later as Tara got in the shower, Naboo found Vince and Howard bickering in the kitchen, and took the opportunity of their distraction to add 'owl beaks' to the shopping list he'd been compiling.

'I'm an innovator, alright? I use words for something other than their intended purpose, I once used the word 'dinner' as a rudimentary spoon to eat my morning cornflakes with. The irony was not lost on that breakfast, let me tell you sir.'

'You used dinner as a spoon?'

'Yes I did. Flipped the capital D around, and I was away!'

'Were you. You're no innovator, I know innovation alright, and you haven't got it.'

'And I suppose you have.'

'Course! If I wasn't an innovator how else would I have come up with this?' Vince scurried into his room then came back moments later, clutching a rattling box labelled '_Vince Noir's Wednesday Adventure – try to escape the enraged tiger who says you've stolen his moccasins while fronting an upcoming electro/folk band and maintaining the coolest hairstyle in your genre.'_

'..How indeed.' Howard turned to the sofa. 'Morning Naboo. Tea?'

'Coffee, I think.'

Howard raised his eyebrows a little. 'Coffee? Ok. Vince, innovation is more than just taking events from your life and trying to market them.'

Vince frowned. 'How?'

'Never mind.' Howard sighed.

'Come on Howard, this game's gonna be a hit I know it! It'll give people a chance to experience what it's like to be their hero. Me.' He grinned.

'You aren't a hero Vince, a true hero is-'

'Howard, please don't start that again.' Said Naboo.

'I'm heroic alright, who was it sprayed Nanatoo's knitting needles with Goth Juice, who saved Lionel the Sparrow when them slugs tried to avenge their loved ones? Plus I'm a genius at 'Put A Hat On An Angry Badger.''

'..That is a pretty good game.' Howard conceded.

'Yeah, it's made of awesome. I didn't know you liked it.'

'Oh yes.' He said, for a moment making a sleepy Naboo wonder if the Churchill dog had somehow found it's way into the flat. 'Yes, many a fun night playing that down at the jazz club my friend. Some try and claim Bucking Bronco to be better, but…'

'Aw, Bucking Bronco's too old-school even for me, Angry Badger's the way forward.' Vince grinned, but then his face fell slightly. '..Jazz freaks play it?'

'Suitable for all Vince. Even Lester plays it, although he doesn't do so well.. almost lost a finger last time.'

'Yeah, I bet you don't play it as good as me though.'

'Don't be so sure there little man, I play a mean and strategic game.'

'There's no strategy involved in Angry Badger!' Laughed Vince.

'Maybe not the way you play it…'

'Oh that's it, I'm not taking this from you Chicken Eyes, we're sorting this out.' Said Vince, pointing an accusing finger at Howard and going back to his room to find the game, encountering Tara fresh from her shower and wrapped in a towel along the way. 'Bathroom's free Naboo.'

Naboo heaved himself up from the sofa, but was stopped by Tara before he got to the bathroom. 'What're they doing now?'

'Seeing who's better at 'Put A Hat On An Angry Badger.''

'I love that game!' Exclaimed Tara. 'But I suppose I shouldn't join in if Man-Pride is at stake.'

Naboo laughed, then muttered in her ear as Vince came back and started setting the game up, winding the badger (NOT a euphemism!), laying out the hats and setting up the little mirror. 'A fiver on Vince?'

'You're on.'

'You'd bet against your own brother?'

'Hell yeah.' She moved closer and whispered 'don't tell him though, eh?'

He smirked. 'Would you bet against me?'

Tara shrugged lightly. 'Depends on the odds.'

'Hmm.'

**Please review m'dears! I know it was only a silly little nothingth of a chapter but still. Mwah.**


	44. Coasters, The Desperate Man

**I'm not dead! Hello! I know, it's been... some hideously long time since I last updated. I suck major ass - but enough about last night. Life stuff just got in the way (I'm an adult now! Scary, eh?) and my muse fecked off.. I had pretty much all of this chapter written for ages but just couldn't end it. It's finally here now though, yay!**

**Part of the reason this chapter took so long was my discovery at the time (which was a bloody long time ago now) of a site called . It's lots of words that have fallen out of use, and as such out of the dictionary, but are pretty cool. Have stuck about four in here, with definitions at the bottom.**

**To business then; thanks muchly to the gorgeous Beth for giving it a quick read through to check I didn't start dribbling or something towards the end. Also, I own nothing Booshy except some DVDs and such. Do own Tara though. Hands off, you animals.**

The television burbled merrily to itself as Vince wandered into the living room. 'Morning'

'Morning Vince' said Howard, pouring hot water into the teapot and rummaging in the cupboards for Vince's favourite cereal. They were rather lucky to have him around really - although Bollo was usually up first, he'd go outside to the park and sit in a tree to watch the sun rise, then once it started getting busy he'd come home to go to back to bed for another five hours. The one time Howard had had to go away to visit some family, it had taken an hour and a half for Vince, Tara and Naboo to work up the energy to get up off the sofa and put the kettle on, and a further forty minutes before they set about getting themselves an actual solid breakfast.

This morning however, Naboo and Tara were for some reason already dressed and actually sitting at the table. 'What's up with you two?'

'Eh?'

Vince nodded towards their current state.

'Oh, right, I'm going out this morning because Matty's mate is doing some workshop on stigmatypy that I want to go to, and Naboo's been told about an essomenic mirror he's got to go and sort out.'

'Apparently it's been showing people what they're doing in five months on Tuesday, which is just long enough for people to forget about it, then freak out with the déjà vu when it happens. Shaman council got a tip off when this woman went crazy after it revealed her in bed with Alan Titchmarsh.'

'Oh right.' He plonked himself on the sofa, and was promptly handed his sugar-filled cup of tea by Howard.

'I don't suppose you'll be doing anything more productive than sitting in front of Jeremy Kyle today then, Vince?'

'Nah, Jeremy Kyle's well over, if you wanna read about chavs you can just pick up the papers, this is a new thing, Hinton Blewitt, it's like Jeremy Kyle but with posh people.'

They all looked up at the telly to see the banner 'my daughter attended an anti-hunting rally', and a distinguished-looking man threatening to do away with his daughter's inheritance if she didn't get rid of her dreadlocks and start attending riding club, while the sprog in question informed him that her new comrades were far more squiriferous than both he and uncle Bertie had ever been.

'Riight... well I've got plans of my own you know, yes sir, Howard Moon's a man of purpose, a man of character, a man-'

'If you're going to Aldi can you pick up some chocolate?' Asked Tara.

'...Yeah.' Said Howard, defeated.

'Don't get any of that strawberry stuff mind, or I'll be on you like a jacket potato.'

'I thought you liked that stuff Vince?'

'No, I had loads of it last time and it made me sicker than when Nigel the Prune gave me that sushi he'd bought down the market. Can't face it again.'

Howard scribbled it down on the list as Tara got up and poured the remainder of her water down the sink. 'Right I'm off, gimme a ring if you're free later on yeah and I'll meet you somewhere?' She said to Naboo, kissing him goodbye.

'Mmm, yeah I will. Have fun!'

Tara flashed a final smile at them before disappearing away down the stairs.

Naboo went back to his Ricicles (I know, who'd have thought it?), practically inhaling a spoon-full when the new family on Hinton Blewitt suddenly produced shotguns from their jackets and began firing rounds into the ceiling, only deigning to desist when the producers offered round some fine blue cheese, the promise of roasted pheasant to follow, and some brandy to calm their fragile nerves.

Just as the shaman was finishing his breakfast, Bollo emerged from his bedroom and shuffled around the kitchen in search of coffee. In a surprising act of antipelargy, Bollo had offered to pick up Howard's trumpet socks from the dry cleaners after he'd taken the ape's jacket in last week, so Naboo offered to give him a lift on the carpet, provided he was ready to go in five minutes.

Bollo tried to gulp down his coffee quickly, and groped in the cupboard for the packet of Rusks Tara had bought.

"I can't believe you eat them things Bollo." Said Vince, watching Bollo crunch down the biscuits.

Howard nearly dropped the cup of tea he was holding onto his foot. "What? Vince, all the terrible sugary kids nonsense you eat, what have you got against Rusks?"

"Tara left one of them on the table once so I had a bite, it was horrible! All cardboardy, and it tasted like old tea."

Howard and Bollo looked at each other.

"Vince," said Naboo. "That was a coaster."

**Oh yes, and that last bit was inspired by the genius of Black Books. So, yeah. Hope you enjoyed that. Again, sorry it's been such a long time. No idea how long the next one will be, July at least is a very busy month, but.. we'll see. The fic isn't dead, at any rate. If I ever feel that I'm just never going to get around to finishing it, I'll do one final update with all the notes and things that might have been.**

**But let's not dwell on such depressing matters. Here, have some definitions!**

**Stigmatypy** – printing portraits using dots of different sizes

**Antipelargy** – reciprocal or mutual kindness

**Essomenic** – showing things as they will be in the future

**Squiriferous** – having the character or qualities of a gentleman

**Reviews would be ever so greatly appreciated. If anyone's still reading this, that is. T'raa xx**


	45. Crystal Balls, aka 'Ow, Fuck'

**Yep, the usual, I'm just a bit rubbish. BUT, I have already made a start on the next chapter. It's a sentence, but a damned fine one! I could get a seven-book deal with this sentence. The seven books would of course never be finished, but nevertheless. Just as long as I get the money...**

**Anyway, as usual thanks to Helen for betaing and 'cauldron card', and to Amanda Palmer who (aside from being generally awesome) I was listening to while finishing this off. Enjoy.**

The stop at the dry cleaners took an unexpectedly long time, after the manager took umbrage at Bollo's sneezing on her undergarments (the dry-cleaned ones. Filthy, filthy-minded people) and the gorilla protested that all the chemicals in the air were damaging his sensitive gorilla nose and he could sue you, actually lady, but his lawyer's in Barbados for tax reasons and he'd be damned if he was waiting around here for him to return... they were on their way. The essomenic mirror had been located in Arnie's Amusement Emporium (an arcade owned by Arnold Anderson, a man who hated alliteration), apparently having been placed there by young and troublesome shaman who going through the difficult transitionary period in a shaman's life, the 90s.

They were soon inside, though as Bollo had forgotten to bring Naboo's Cauldron Card as proof of their identity, the shaman had had to cough up £11.50 entrance fee. It was at times such as these that Naboo almost regretted choosing Bollo as his familiar, but the thought of the heavy, future-filled mirror served as a reminder; He had first encountered the ape when moving to London in the late 70s, and struggling to unload a multitude of heavy boxes. He had been wary of using magic to lift them because of all the people around, though the assistance of a talking ape who'd happened to be passing aroused no suspicion. Some several flights of stairs, violent cursing and two cups of tea later, a familiarship was born.

Naboo had never mentioned the original reason for his choice to Bollo, but suspected the gorilla had an inkling of his intentions after the time he'd dragged Bollo off of the sofa and away from Snog, Marry, Avoid to take care of a box of pillows and had been called a lazy git for his trouble.

The unlikely-looking pair wandered through the amusements, taking in the corridor of animatronic mounted fish, the attic of squirrels (which may or may not have been an official attraction; there was no sign on the door, but it certainly was eventful) and the terrifying maze of dead clowns before reaching the world of mirrors.

"Alright Bollo," began Naboo as he pushed the door open. "The report said the mirror had be covered over so no-one else was exposed to it, so it should be pretty obvious which.."

He trailed off as they peered into the dimly-lit room. Nearly every other mirror had been covered over with old blankets, and broken shards littered the floor.

The tiny shaman sighed. "Brilliant. Come on Bollo, we need to sort through all these. Be careful not to look into the mirrors for too long – it's dangerous to know your future."

Bollo nodded and shuffled into the room, leathery feet unaffected by the sharp fragments of mirrors.

It was longer work than it initially seemed; most of the covered mirrors had been broken, excluding them from being candidates for the essomenic mirror, which had been reported as being intact and would've lost all mystical power as soon as it was broken. However, it was quite difficult to determine which of the intact mirrors may be essomenic, without exposing themselves to it's properties.

With his shamanic powers, Naboo was able to work though the mirrors a little faster than Bollo, who ended up a few turns of the mirrored route behind him, ducking back and forth in front of a mirror, trying to catch it showing him something without actually seeing it. With no idea of how many they'd yet to investigate, or even how much more of the Amusement Emporium there was for them to walk through even after they'd found the mirror, he was becoming more and more desperate for a cup of tea.

He turned another corner and yanked a Hello Kitty blanket from the closest mirror, getting an strange vibe from it instantly; although a lot of the mirrors had unusual decoration (such as row upon row of dead wasps glued to the frame, or the one with small bits of assorted blue cloth adorning it), this one definitely stood out. As he stared at the strange carvings and inscriptions in an unknown language, he caught a movement in the mirror.

As much as he knew he shouldn't, Naboo couldn't help but watch. After all, what if it was something important, that he needed to know about? If he'd been forewarned, he might've been able to stop Thomas the wolf spending all his money on those w-ray sunglasses that only showed you things that were white and had a panic attack in the apple store. Or made sure to have been out when Howard wanted someone to help him with the zips on his new tweed utility suit. Anyway, he was a shaman, he'd be able to cope with a vision of the future. Those crystal balls weren't just good paperweights. (In fact, they weren't good paperweights at all – no paperweight should have the ability to roll off the desk and onto your foot when you get up in the night for a wee.)

He stood transfixed as swirling shapes resolved themselves into Tara. Tara! Tara was in his future. Of course, he'd always assumed this, there was no way he was letting her go again, but it was nice to have confir...ma...oh.

There was Tara alright. There was Tara with some other bloke. Kissing him.

**I know I know, I'm a naughty cliffhanging person. Stamp on my metaphorical (or indeed, literal, though you'd have to find me first) fingers, but then you'll never know what happens next!**

**Reviews are love. Or hate. But hopefully love. Bonus points to anyone who spots the shout-out to an early ep.**


	46. Woolly wonders & Crop top capers

**Hello hello hello hello hello. Hello. How are you? Are you well? I know it's been ages again, I'm not even sure people still come on this site let alone read this, but I've finally done an update so I'm bally well going to upload it. It may cheer you to know I've already done nearly a page of the next chapter, and the marvellous child prodigy Cookiemunster is now living under my roof, so I'm hoping that together we'll encourage each other to write.**

**So, usual business, I don't own anything Booshy, Tara's mine but for a bag of Percy Pigs I'll let you have a quick fumble in an unlocked cupboard, and there's a Douglas Adams reference waaaaay down towards the end. Thanks to Helen and the gorgeous Bombilicious for proof-reading. Enjoy! (Hopefully.)**

Bollo concluded that the mirror he'd been having trouble with was not the essomenic one, but that the subtle movements he kept seeing in it was actually the reflection of one of the escaped squirrels from the loft, trying to re-style it's tail.

He shuffled along, trying to catch up to Naboo, who he came across suddenly as he turned a corner. The shaman was stood completely still, half-recoiled from the clouded mirror in front of him; the futures shown being largely personal in nature, they were only visible to those that they related to – Bollo merely saw opaque swirls.

However, he quickly guessed what was going on and charged at Naboo, pulling a woollen abomination from his pocket. He tackled the shaman to the floor and rammed Howard's trumpet sock over his head to stop him witnessing any more of his future.

"Mm-m! Mm m mm mm m mm-mm?" Naboo yelped, muffled by the oatmeal-coloured wool.

"You looking at future. Bad idea. Bollo play with tarot cards once. Draw death card. Next week, pet fish stole piggy bank and lost everything betting on national Lego championship."

Naboo mumbled something incoherent and pushed at the ape, signalling that it was about time Bollo got off him. He did so, helped the tiny Xooberonian up, and replaced the Hello Kitty blanket over the mirror, being careful not to look into it as he did so.

"We remove mirror now?" He grunted. When he received no reply he turned to Naboo, who was stood with his arms folded and looking like someone had dressed him in a prototype Innocent Smoothie winter hat. Despite Naboo's face being covered, Bollo could still tell he was on the receiving end of a powerful glare.

"Oh. Right."

He took hold of the loose wool at the top, gave it a firm tug... and lifted Naboo off the ground by his head.

"MMMMM! M-mm! M mm-mm mm!" Naboo yelled, staggering around with his hands at his neck.

"Sorry. Uh.." He tried pulling it from the bottom, only to receive further screams of pain and flailing arms of revenge, not least because he'd accidentally gotten hold of some of Naboo's hair.

After attempting a few different positions, the like of which would have made them internet stars of a very niche market if anyone had gotten hold of the cctv, Naboo was finally free of the trumpet sock.

Already in some distress from his vision in the mirror, his ordeal had not put Naboo in the best of moods. He snapped at Bollo to get the mirror, and transported them straight to shaman council headquarters.

* * *

Having escaped from Yakoo and his colleagues, though only after lengthy explanations, repetitions, accusations and reconciliations – the usual, then – Naboo and Bollo were on the carpet back to the flat. Luckily he didn't have to think about flying home (save for a brief incident with a remote-control plane), as the carpet knew it's way without any of those ridiculous Xooberonian emotions cluttering up the place.

It has been thought by many that Naboo's flying carpet came from his home planet of Xooberon. Though sensible, this is incorrect; his old carpet did indeed come from his homeland (UPS special delivery, which of course took two and a half months), but was considered to be a lost cause after Vince used it to make a coat for a homeless wolf. Consequently, a new one was made after a quick trip to IKEA. Given the right quantities of, among other things, pigeon spleen, bat eyelid, powdered gull and Wright brothers DNA it is surprisingly easy to make a flying carpet, though perhaps not much of a mystery why there are so few.

His mind was full of the images he'd witnessed in the mirror. Tara in the arms of someone else. Where was he? Were they no longer together? The thought was as unbearable as that of her seeing someone else behind his back. Naboo was very perceptive, being a shamen, and would probably be able to pick up on anything wrong, but... Tara did spend a lot of time away from him. She had this new job now, she'd be meeting new people.. and she'd already expressed intentions to make trips away from London, it'd be the perfect opportunity to...

His phone vibrated in his pocket. A text from Tara. _Hey, didn't want to ring in case you were busy, we're off for a drink and some lunch, you gonna be free to meet up after or shall I go home? Love you xxx_

Naboo stared at his phone.

He trusted Tara.

Yeah, no, he did. Trusted her more than anyone and knew that she loved him, but... there was some good magic in that mirror, and although it may not have been completely perfect it at least got the basics right. And the basics of what he'd seen were Tara in an embrace with a stranger. Or a stranger to him at least, for all he knew it could have been someone she'd met this very morning.

He sighed, and text back, agreeing to meet her. Hopefully he'd feel better if he could just see her.

* * *

"Vince, I don't know about this."

Standing on the pavement and wearing a poorly-advised crop top, Howard looked around guiltily. "What if we're caught?"

"Oh come on Howard."

"This is stealing!"

"Nah, s'just borrowing for a bit."

Howard still hesitated.

"What, you afraid of Tara or something?"

"Aren't you?"

"Not… really… look, the sooner we get in and do this, the sooner we'll be done and Tara'll never know!"

"It's not just Tara I'm worried about."

"What, Naboo? Come on, he can't do anything to us, shaman law, remember?"

'What about that bloke you and he went after together? He didn't obey the law then did he, shaman or otherwise."

Vince shifted around a little. "That was different."

"Or that time he caught you armed with sequins trying to steal his turban for a party?"

Vince flinched a little and protectively ran his fingers through his hair as the memory of Naboo advancing on him with a baldening potion suddenly came screaming back to him. "Well, whatever alright, if you don't want to come I'll do it alone, it can't be that hard."

"What? I'm not letting you get in Tara's van unsupervised, god knows what'll happen!"

"Just get in."

Howard glanced around once more, in case Vince's tiny sister suddenly jumped out from behind a bus stop or something, then climbed into the passenger side of the elaborately-painted VW camper. "How did you even get the keys for this? I thought Tara would've had them?"

"Nah, she got the bus to her workshop thing. They were on the table." Howard looked at him doubtfully. "In her room." Eyebrows were raised. "In a drawer. That had a note on it saying 'beware of the leopard."

Howard nodded smugly.

"Whatever alright, I dunno what she's so worried about, I'll be a legend at driving!"

"Vince, the last time you were behind a wheel you hit seventeen other vehicles!"

"That was on bumper cars, Howard, you're supposed to hit people. Anyway, I've matured since then, haven't I?"

"It was last week!"

"Look, if you're not gonna be helpful just shut up. Now," Vince looked around his seat, including up to the ceiling. "Where do the keys go?"

**Reviews fuel more writing**


	47. Lies of Omission

**Hey, I've done a thing! And it didn't take me seventeen years, hurrah! I hope you enjoy it, you people, out there in the world. I know some of you must exist. You there, in the back, stop that, it's disgusting.**

**Quick note, 'pedal arrangements' in the first paragraph is pedal (pee-dal)as in pertaining to the feet, not as in important cycling equipment. **

**As always, I don't own anything except Tara. I don't even own a chocolate orange. I did, but we've eaten it all.**

Bruised and shaken but otherwise intact, Vince and Howard cowered on the sofa in front of an angry Naboo and Tara. Vince was crying in huge soggy sobs, while the only part of anyone Howard's gaze would meet was their shoes; owing to this, he discovered some rather interesting things about Naboo's pedal arrangements, but felt that now wasn't entirely the time for them to be discussed. He really would have liked to have known what the porridge was for, though.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Demanded Tara.

"Come on, Howard told me to do it!"

"What?" Erupted Howard. "I told you in every possible way _not_ to do it!"

"Alright, told me _how_ to do it then."

Naboo rounded on Howard, but was stopped by Tara. "Come on, like poor Howard was anything other than a pawn in the whole affair. The mastermind's the one in the Rod Stewart wig."

"Oi, I'll give you Rod Stewart wig! You look like Josie from Josie and the Pussycats!"

"I wouldn't say that was a particularly bad thing."

"And Rod is?"

Tara deliberated this. "Whenever I think of him my mind always goes to Kenny Everett. Which again, is no bad thing, but... the point is-!"

"It was fine!" Vince wailed. "I wasn't gonna go far, I just wanted to give it a try, and-"

"You _stole_ my van."

This simple accusation, and the way Tara was looking at him, sent Vince into floods of tears again. Despite her anger, seeing her brother like that did soften her onslaught a little. Vince always knew how to get round her, the swine.

"Vince, you could've been really hurt! You're lucky we caught you, or you'd never have hit that circus parade."

"Elephant will be fine. Has health insurance with Bupa." Contributed Bollo, from the armchair.

"Vince..." Tara looked down at him sadly. "Why?"

Vince raised his watery eyes to hers, then shook his head and buried his face in his knees. Still no real answer.

Tara lost her patience. "Fine, be even more of a child about it then! This is just what I needed two days before I start work, thank you so much Vince!"

She stormed off, followed by Naboo. Howard got up for a cup of tea, and Bollo went back to his newspaper, leaving Vince alone with his thoughts.

Vince didn't really want to be left alone with his thoughts. They were usually about raccoons, and jelly, and anthropomorphic ham in cowboy hats, but at the moment they were mostly of angry voices, accusing eyes and tidal waves of guilt.

The worst thing about it was that no-one would comfort him. Everyone thought he was an idiot, including him. He just wanted to get out, have a little fun, he never meant to hurt anyone. It was awful being cramped up in the flat with nothing to do, arguing with Howard over stupid little things. He thought that they could have an adventure together, like the old days.

He missed the old days.

* * *

Well, this was perfect. There was potentially a very serious problem in the future of their relationship that Naboo really ought to discuss with his fiancé, when Vince decides that today of all days is a good time to steal the van and plough it into a handy mammal. Fan-bloody-tastic.

He stroked Tara's hair, waiting for her to be ready to talk.

"I just... I don't understand why he'd do this. I mean, Vince is daft, and he likes to play with things, but he knows better than to mess about with the van."

"I think he's bored."

"Bored? What is he, a teenager on local news? Should I build him a skate park?"

"You know what I mean. He and Howard haven't had proper jobs since the zoo, he's run out of things to sew together, he doesn't feel like painting anymore, he's not got any money to go out..."

"Well, what about that shop? Couldn't he start making things to sell while you get it sorted out? Did you talk to the council about it?"

"He could, but it's gonna take a while. I didn't have time today, with the mirror and stuff."

"Oh yeah, how did it go? I'm sorry, I forgot to ask you with everything going on!"

"It's ok." He kissed her forehead. "And... yeah, it was fine. Took ages to find it, and we got a couple of squirrel bites I might need to rub some cumin into, but it's all taken care of now."

He couldn't bring himself to tell Tara what he'd seen. She was already really stressed out be Vince's escapades, and talking about it now would probably only end up with them both getting more upset. Besides, it was entirely possible that someone like Kirk (who'd had it in for Naboo ever since he'd raffled off the contents of the smaller shaman's bedside drawers) had messed with the mirror just to screw with him...

He squeezed Tara tightly, producing a little happy noise, which in turn made him happy. Whatever happened, they'd be ok. As Naboo's grandmother always said, if a relationship can survive one of you dying, you're on solid footing.

After a little longer cuddling, Tara decided she wanted to take a look at the van and see how much work it'd take to repair. Then possibly beating it out of Vince.

"You coming down?" She asked of Naboo, heading towards the door.

"I'll be there in a minute." He replied, placing one hand to his forehead and the other on the crystal ball, which glowed with a deep purple. Tara frowned a little, interested. Usually it was simply red.

**Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, FEEL IT. Feel that awful, awful joke. Feel it dripping down your face, you filthy harlots. You love it. **

**I toyed with naming this chapter 'Roddy and the Pussycats', but thought that sounded like a rather poor porn movie. And yeah, Naboo had (or maybe even still has) a grandma! Who knew? I for one thought he'd sprouted from the ground, like a mighty cabbage.**

**Hope you enjoyed, reviews would be greatly appreciated. I'm so alone here... *whimper***


	48. Bureaucratic Bother

**Hello all! Or, anyone. Hope you're enjoying the sunshine, while it lasts! I've been in Scotland, where I took the record as the first person in history to get sunburnt there. I also did some writing there, so there's 600 words of the next chapter done, and hopefully it shouldn't be too long until you get to shine your tired peepers on it.**

**So, the usual - Boosh stuff isn't mine, thank you to Helen for betaing for me. Enjoy!**

The van hadn't been very seriously damaged and after she'd gotten over her shock and anger, Tara set to work repairing it. Well, Vince helped. Which is to say, she supervised and instructed Vince on how to repair it, sitting in a deck chair and sipping virgin cocktails (a supervisor must remain focused) while her brother crawled around on the ground in a customised overall. But really, it was all Tara's own work. Vince was just there learning a lesson.

Once Bertha had reached Tara's high standards and Vince had learned more about mechanics and bodyworks than he'd ever wished to, the oil-coated electro-poof had been allowed to retire. After spending four hours in the bathroom, muttering about being 'unclean' he'd eventually relinquished the smallest room (well, if one were to look at the blueprints for the flat in the town planning office, one would see that the smallest room was Bollo's, which was technically a cupboard. However, Bollo's room had been fitted with a Dimensor for his fortieth birthday, and was currently the size of the living room, owing in no small part to the fact that they, in a wibbly-wobbly-dimensioney-wensioney way, occupied the same space.), allowing Tara to have her own long, soothing shower in preparation for her new job the following day.

While she serenaded the shower curtain with selected MGM classics, Naboo set to work trying to overcome the awesome power of bureaucracy, which had penetrated even the magical world.

APPLICATION FOR REGISTRATION OF MAGICAL PRACTICES ON NON-MAGICAL PROPERTY, BEGINNING OF A MAGICAL AND/OR NON-MAGICAL BUSINESS ON NON-MAGICAL PROPERTY BY MAGICAL PRACTITIONER, AND THE HANDLING OF GECKOS ON BUSINESS (MAGICAL OR NON-MAGICAL) PROPERTY.

1.1.a PLEASE ENTER YOUR FULL NAME

Naboo sighed, and flexed his wrist. This could take a while.

Tara emerged from the bathroom in a puff of fragrant steam to find Naboo kneeling on the floor, rocking back and forth and weeping over a stack of paper.

"Naboo!" She exclaimed, rushing over. "What's wrong?"

Unable to speak, he pointed shakily at a paragraph of small text two-thirds of the way down a page.

IF YOUR ANSWER TO 2.3. b (IS THE LEVEL OF YOUR MAGICAL QUALIFICATION SUB-PAR, HIGHER, LESSER OR EQUAL, AND IF SO WHICH OF THE SECONDARY OPTIONS) WAS a) NEITHER, BUT I DO KNOW LEVITATION b) YES, BUT NOT ON TUESDAYS c) PROFICIENT IN SPELLS, POTIONS, DIVINATION AND LESSER HTML or d) THE KESTRAL SINGS AT MIDNIGHT, COMPLETE ALL PREVIOUS SECTIONS IN ORANGE HIGHLIGHTER AND DISREGARD EVERY FOURTH QUESTION HEREAFTER.

Tara read this, her eyebrows performing all sorts of interesting gymnastics as she did so, then flipped through a few more pages, finally coming to a brief paragraph on the first page.

"Didn't you read this small print?"

"What small print?"

Tara sighed. "Honestly, you're over four hundred and you still don't know any better... _This application form requires immense mental fortitude. It should only be attempted by those of age three hundred or above, on a tuesday afternoon after several weeks of preparatory meditation."_

Naboo sighed, flopping backwards against the sofa. Tara smiled at him sympathetically, and offered to make him a cup of tea to calm his nerves.

"I'm putting the kettle on, does anyone else want tea?" She called to the population at large, but only really reaching the occupants of the flat. Which was lucky, as the kettle only had the capacity of two litres.

Vince wafted from his room dressed in richly-coloured silks, and once they'd retrieved Howard from his new pair of headphones (he'd bought some noise-cancelling headphones in previous weeks in the hopes of blocking out the world outside of jazz, but he turned out to have been proverbially had – the noise-cancelling headphones transmitted no noise at all, which due to the wording of the product description made complaining very difficult. Thus, new ones had been required) they settled down to a cuppa.

"Where's Bollo?"

"He's joined a charity to provide support for wild animals who're new to the city. Apparently they've got a meeting."

"What's up with Bollo lately?" Asked Vince. "First he took Howard's trumpet sock for a clean-"

"Never again." Muttered Howard.

"-and now he's doing charity work? Did he see the ghost of christmas past in those esso-whatsit mirrors or something?"

"Chubby Thomas at the market got him the My Name Is Earl box set last week." Explained Naboo. "Think he's taken it a bit to heart."

Howard, having failed to find a place to set down his cup from all the sheets of paper strewn about, had picked up a sheet of Naboo's application. "What's this Naboo?"

"I have to register intent with the Shaman Council if we're gonna run that shop downstairs. I was trying to fill in the form earlier."

"Trying?"

Naboo shifted uncomfortably, muttering something about a breakdown. Tara explained that he lacked the necessary brainpower.

"Hey, my brain's fine alright, I just-"

He was interrupted by Vince scoffing. "Huh, yeah. Bet your mind's like a fortress, right? That's what you said about the yetis, and what happened next? You were singing like Simon and Garfunkle."

"Simon AND Garfunkle?"

Vince rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, alright…"

"Anyway, I'm better at it now, I've had an upgrade."

"An upgrade? On your brain?"

"Yeah."

"But…." Vince frowned, very confused.

"Look, forget everything you thought you knew about how brains work, and-" Vince was looking blank. "You know what, never mind."

**The form Naboo is trying to fill owes something to the first episode of Black Books. Reviews are writer fuel.**


	49. Supervising who? That's right

**Christ's shiny cockring, it's a new chapter. Which isn't strictly true, as it appears I wrote all of this and a little more probably around last summer (judging by the reference to hayfever tablets), opened it today, changed one word, deleted a pointless bit from the end, and called it a complete chapter. **

**I have started the next chapter, though. And we all know how well that's gone for me in recent times. Don't hold your breath on another one very soon, possibly-non-existent-readership, but I am determined to get this finished. It's just life stuff getting in the way. Today I went to IKEA. On a saturday lunchtime. Yeah.**

A fresh morning brought with it the usual chorus of moaning traffic (it was too early to have worked itself up into a roar yet), delighted shrieks of children fuelled by the prospect of a day spent terrorising local fauna, and the increasingly aggravated gurgle of the kettle, as Howard prepared his first beverage of the day.

Unlike his housemates, he'd never been one for spending a lazy morning in bed, and much preferred to be alert and productive, even if he had nothing in particular to do; this led to many a smug grin at around noon as one by one they emerged to find him 'just taking a break' – usually from a Hollyoaks marathon or a mental list of the seventeen popular bands with jazz backgrounds few knew of.

This morning however, he was trying his best to stay out of the way as Tara bustled around preparing for her first day at YAWN, providing herself with a running commentary as she did so. "Right, so I've got those... that's in the.. don't need _that_.. what've I done with my... ohh, buggerbuggerbuggerbugger.."

Naboo emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and holding Tara's purse. "Think you'll need this?"

An exclamation of joy and surprise issued forth from Tara.

"I found it in the medicine cupboard."

"In the...? Oh, I took some hayfever tablets out." She remembered. "Didn't want to be sniffing and sneezing all the way through."

Naboo kissed her and made his way to the bedrooom to get dressed, hammering on Vince's door along the way. "Vince! Get up!"

Vince would be accompanying Naboo to a meeting about the shop downstairs, as his merchandise would be the legitimate front for Naboo's shamanic business. Though Howard had been given a mistrusting 'maybe' with regard to his contributing, he wasn't allowed to the meeting today, due in equal parts to Vince being more charming and the person whom they were meeting was a beautiful woman. They'd have no chance with Howard present.

Not that he minded – if everyone were out of the house, it left him free to pursue his own interests. Howard Moon had plans of his own.

As Tara munched down a nutella and banana toastie (seriously, try one) and in doing so got herself covered in melted chocolate spread, Bollo emerged from his room dressed in the manner of a nineteen fifties schoolboy: shorts, collar and tie, and a slightly battered boater hat.

"Bollo visiting auntie at seaside. Very traditional. Back tomorrow."

With that, he picked up a suitcase covered in old-fashioned labels, and trudged downstairs.

* * *

In a stuffy waiting room, Vince picked at his shirt cuff, prompting a hiss from Naboo. "I told you to dress for business!"

"I'm in a suit!" Technically this was true, though the truth found the going a little difficult after that, and struggled to make it to 'actually', 'seemingly', or even 'probably'. The suit had been heavily decorated with colourful fabric ribbon, and now resembled something Wizzard might have worn for meetings with record executives.

He shrugged. "I had to put my own spin on it, didn't I?"

Naboo's retort was interrupted by the opening of a door, through which stepped a dark-skinned woman in a red business suit, with loosely curled hair and chunky jewellery.

"Mister Noir and Naboo?" She smiled. "Come in."

Once seated inside her office, they were introduced properly. "My name's Zola, I'm going to be guiding you through the process of starting a new business. Can you give me an outline of your plan?"

"There's a shop below the flat we live in that's been empty for a few months, so we were thinking of buying it and selling cool, funky stuff there. We've got lots of creative friends, and lots of fashionable people, so we think we could really make it a success and bring a bit of life back into the area."

"Hmm, I see. Where is it you live?"

"Dalston."

"Hmm. What sort of things are you hoping to sell?"

Vince had been trying to behave himself during this, but felt that now was his time to shine. "That's where I come in." He grinned. "My sister's an artist, so we'll have stuff of hers in, I do a bit of painting, bit of clothes design, bit of music... I make all sorts of things people love, I'll show you."

He delved into the canvas bag he'd brought with him, producing a small array of his personal nic-nacs. Yes, that's what I said. Yes, I am going to leave that there. It's your problem now.

Zola's eyes glanced over the items on her desk, then her eyes lingered on Vince, an interested smile on her lips.

"Dalston's a promising area, but it's still struggling at the moment. Are you confident that you'll be able to make a business work there?"

"If I sell it, they'll come."

Zola smiled. "So, Mr Naboo-"

"-It's just Naboo."

"-Naboo, what will your role be in the business, if your friends are supplying the merchandise?"

"I'll be the manager."

"Do you have any experience as a manager?"

Naboo considered his history of keeping Vince and Howard in check, being in charge of various familiars, and those three hours supervising The Who. "A bit, yeah."

"So you're.." Zola shifted in her chair, leaning forward on her desk, where the pressure from her arms created an impressive sight both men did their best not to stare at. "..good at keeping people in their place?"

"Uhh..." Naboo looked at Vince, panicked. A conversation of "What's going on?" "Why's she flirting with you when I'm here?" "Help me!" "Nah, it'll help us." "I'm engaged to your sister!" "So, she'll think it's funny!""I'm not..." "Just do it!" happened wordlessly within the space of about two seconds, before he turned back to Zola with what he hoped was a flirtatious smile rather than the constipated grimace it felt like. "Well, I'm certainly a big believer in discipline.."

**My A/Ns are getting bitter. I dislike this. Must work harder. Sorry. Here, have a biscuit. Leave a review. And no crumbs.**


	50. Stay In The Kitchen

Tara's first day had constituted mainly of observing Todd, who'd been drafted in to cover while they found a replacement for the missing-presumed-nibbled James Jam. Most of the actual information gathering was pretty straightforward, but remembering how to work a radio console would take some practice – she'd neglected to mention in her interview how on more than one occasion at college radio she'd actually hung up on a caller and somehow tapped into CIA surveillance. They were alright about it though, apparently it happened all the time.

She made her way down the stairs, smiling at a few people she recognised but could not yet name. At least, not accurately. Surprisingly few people react well to casually being called Nigel. As she neared the exit Cass, the goth receptionist, emerged from a back room.

"Oh hi, how's it going?"

"Bit of a whirlwind, but I think I've got the basics down."

"You'll get the hang of it in no time, it's a piece of cake one you've got your head around it. Once Latenight Lucy called in sick at the last minute and I had to do her call-in show for her."

Recalling something being mentioned about this show earlier in the day, Tara asked "Is that the one where-"

"Yep. I thought I was quite worldly until I had to answer those phones. Are you doing anything for lunch?"

After a quick text to Naboo to confirm that the first day went well and that she would be home later than expected, Tara allowed Cass to lead her to a nearby cafe, whose pizza toasties she heartily recommended - "It's salami, mozzarella, a little basil, and this amazing tomato relish, you have to try one!"

* * *

Hearing the jingle of keys at the front door and muttered curses as Vince yet again tried to open the locks in the wrong order, Howard quickly stopped what he was doing and hid the evidence, standing flushed, sweaty and guilty-looking in the middle of the living room. Realising the implications of those three combined, he stuck some jazz on and tried to look relaxed before he was subject to another excruciating lecture on what was acceptable behaviour in personal and public spaces. All because he'd accidentally put on trousers remnant from his weekend as a male stripper.

Vince and Naboo respectively trotted and trudged up the stairs, immediately shutting off the stereo. "Alright Howard."

"Hi guys, what's happening? How'd it go?"

"It was great, we were a massive hit! She loved my stuff, and," Vince sniggered. "She certainly liked what Naboo had to offer."

"Shut up Vince." Glared Naboo, from the kettle. Next to the kettle that is, he wasn't doing a low-budget Aladdin tribute.

"What's that mean?"

"I don't want to talk about it." The shaman replied, as his phone went off. _Not coming home. Staying in this cafe and living solely on their amazing toasties. Send money._

Naboo smiled a little, then disappeared into his bedroom to get on the crystal ball to Yakoo.

Vince turned innocent blue eyes to Howard."So, what've you been up to?"

Panic. Don't panic. Change the subject. "N-nothing. This parcel came for you."

"Oh, brilliant, I know what this is!" Excitement illuminating his face, Vince tore into the packaging. "Ghostfacers!"

Howard frowned at the cheap-looking dvd cover. "What on earth is that?"

"It's great, it's like Most Haunted but real! These guys go to old houses and stuff and look for ghosts, and they know how to scare 'em away and everything! That's why I've put salt on all our windowsills, keeps ghosts out." He finished proudly.

"Is that also why I found piles of salt all over my jazz shelves the other day?"

"Jazz is evil, Howard." Said Vince seriously. "It couldn't be allowed to escape."

"Riiiiight. Well I hate to break it to you Vince, but ghosts aren't real. You've just spend precious pounds on a dvd of two blokes running around in the dark screaming at their own brains."

"Ghosts are totally real! What about that time at the zoo we kept finding all the cupboards and drawers open? Ghosts do that all the time!"

"So do sleepwalking chefs." Replied Howard wearily. "Remember, Gary had lost his measuring spoons, but the gibbons were using them in their folk band."

"Oh yeah, Gibbons of the Wishbone, they were great, I've got their LP." Vince smiled. "And alright, but what about the moaning?"

"What moaning?"

"The moaning, at night! I keep hearing it when I'm trying to get to sleep, there's moaning and thudding somewhere inside the walls, the sound of distressed souls! We should get the old goth gear out and have a séance."

Realisation dawned on Howard. "Don't be daft Vince, it's just your imagination. Probably the pigeons on the roof." He explained, making a mental note to remind Naboo to check the expiry date on the soundproofing spell he'd supposedly put on his bedroom.

"So, you wanna watch some of this?" Asked Vince, bounding towards the DVD player.

Howard tried desperately to think of some excuse, but was able only to come up with a game of poker with marmosets. Knowing that Vince would likely wish to join him in that, he agreed.

The low-budget show began, with the investigators explaining that this week they'd be searching for a suspected witch. Howard paid little attention to the details of their plan, sitting instead with an expression of smug scepticism. That is, until the Ghostfacers found their subject of the week.

Naboo emerged from his bedroom and shuffled towards the kettle, stopping sharply when Vince and Howard yelled his name.

"You never said you were on Ghostfacers!" Cried Vince.

Naboo looked up at his own poorly lit pissed-off face on the telly. "Oh god, them. They thought I was a witch, and when I told them I was a shaman one of them said he was a shaman and called me a fraud."

"They've got a shaman too?" Asked Howard.

"Nah, just some muppet who's 1/16th Cherokee. But he wouldn't leave me alone, so I threw a waking nightmare curse at him."

"And that got rid of them?"

"Not really. I missed and hit their intern. Turns out his nightmare is giant wasps. Had to leave pretty quickly after that."

**Obviously I own nothing but an extremely extensive DVD collection.**


	51. The Great Knickers Mystery of 2013

**Hey, this didn't take me a year, huzzah! Shout out to Schmit of New Girl to the good pea coat idea. Hope anyone who is still reading this enjoys, reviews much appreciated!**

After a few weeks, Tara had settled in well at her job at YawnFM, becoming firm friends with Cass and a handful of others, while Naboo continued to toil at the bureaucracy of starting a small business while maintaining as little contact as possible with Zola.

During this time, possible names for their new enterprise had been bandied about. Wanting to showcase himself, Vince had campaigned vehemently for Vince Noir's Glory Hole, even going so far as to have t-shirts printed up until Tara had told him what his chosen phrase meant. Howard's suggestion of Moon's Jazz Bazaar had been violently ignored, while Tara's proposal of Electric Bob's Emporium of Elephantine Eccentricities had been met with the suggestion that she lie down for a bit.

Naboo apparently wasn't bothered about what they called it as long as he didn't feel stupid when answering the shop phone.

They'd been hoarding potential stock for a while, during which time Tara and Vince had been painting frantically (including a small meta series of pictures of each painting them painting the other), the result of which was a very cluttered flat. On the way to the kitchen one day, Howard shuffled around around piles of a new line of clothing for the outgoing young undiscovered musical genius, a stack of canvasses displaying a range of cityscapes and florescent hedgehogs, and a box of sixteen thousand coloured paper clips until he reached the final obstacle, a shapely rear end enclosed in a pair of silky crimson knickers, with black lace edging.

The owner of this backside rummaging through the laundry basket which had seemingly taken up permanent residence next to the fridge. Howard cleared his throat and tried his utmost not to stare, fearing a shaman's curse first post (Naboo liked to make these things official).

To his surprise, however, it was not Tara who stood to move out of his way, but-

"Vince?!"

"Sorry Howard. Have you seen my good pea coat?"

"I... what? What are you doing in those?" Howard pointed, then wished he hadn't also looked downwards as the view didn't get any better.. or worse.. or uncomfortable.. from the front.

"I'm looking for my good pea coat is what, I've gotta go out in half an hour, have you seen it?" Demanded Vince, unfazed.

"No. They're woman's pants!"

"So? They're comfy." Vince shrugged, then sashayed off to Bollo's room to enquire about the missing coat.

"Comfy?" Echoed Howard.

* * *

"So Naboo," began Yakoo, having completed calling the Shaman Council register and reprimanding Kirk for shouting 'wanker!' after every name. "You have completed your application?"

"That's right." Naboo replied, indicating the holdall full of paper next to him, and trying his best not to be embarrassed by the Mr Men pattern.

"It has been sealed with the wax of needless bureaucracy?"

The tiny shaman indicated the burn on his left hand and splatters of grey wax on his robes.

"And have you fulfilled your obligation to jump naked over it seventeen times whist holding a parrot?"

Naboo stared at him.

"...Moving on. We will be pleased to support you in this, and may I say you've done well to have-"

Yakoo broke off and joined everyone else in looking to a shaman on his left.

The shaman in question gave the impression of unease. "What?"

Yakoo shook his head a little. "Sorry, I'm just used to being interrupted from your general area."

Naboo stepped forward and stage whispered to the council's chair. "'Ere, Yakoo. Who's this..." Naboo eyed the council's new member. "...person."

"Oh, yes, sorry." Yakoo whispered in reply, then cleared his throat. "Naboo, this is A. A is on an exchange with Saboo, who is currently in the fourth world of Kaloom."

Kaloom is a strange place, insofar as it doesn't actually exist. That is to say, places associated with it (such as the fourth world, the eighth kingdom, and the orthodox division of kaloomian lighting practices) are widespread and varied, but an origin – Kaloom itself – has yet to be found. Many theories regarding why this may be have been formulated, but are usually forgotten upon sobering up.

"Hello." Intoned A.

Naboo nodded back to A, then returned his attention to Yakoo. "So, that's everything yeah? You'll approve the shop?"

"Not quite, Naboo. One matter yet remains." Said Yakoo gravely, leaning forward and looking as though he would very much like to be dramatically lit at this point, which is unfortunate as this is literature.

Naboo visibly deflated, which came as a relief to him more than anyone since he'd gotten wedged into Vince's prototype dazzleriffic lifejacket (child size) the evening before and getting dressed this morning had been a nightmare. It must have finally sprung a leak.

"What now?!" he exclaimed. "It's taken me ages to get through all this rubbish, I've filled in forms in triplicate, upside down and in zebra spit, I've got third degree burns and I'm banned from the aviary! What more do you want?!"

"What we want.. is discount."

After a brief mental shutdown, Naboo shook his head slightly to recover from the shock of anticlimax. "Discount? But I get all my supplies through you anyway, since shamansbury's shut down."

"Not for that," replied Yakoo as Kirk rolled his eyes. "We want discount on the things your idiot housemate is making. The pointy one."

"You want... How do you know about Vince's stuff?"

"A here has informed us."

"I see many things." Affirmed A.

"How?" Demanded Naboo.

* * *

Naboo arrived home somewhere between forty minutes and two decades later, depending on your inter-dimensional viewpoint. He stormed into the living room, rummaging around on the bookcase in the corner.

Howard, Vince and Tara observed this from the sofa. "What're you doing?"

Naboo turned round and tossed something small, plastic and trailing a cable at Vince. "The whole world's been spying on us!"

It is worth mentioning here that Naboo's understanding of technology was fairly limited (as indeed was Howard and Vince's, though not Bollo's, for the ape had spent some time in a university animal research laboratory that had a computer lab next door, and you don't spend eight months listening to people scream about their code without picking up a few things), and he was therefore convinced that once something was on the internet, everyone with access to the internet will have seen it. Tara had tried to correct him on this a few times, but considering that a shaman's perception of the entire universe is far more complex than our own, he simply couldn't grasp the idea that the whole world wouldn't have seen something on the world wide web. His internet vocabulary was also rooted firmly in the nineties.

"Vince has got a website and he's been showing the whole world what we've been doing!"

"You what?" Frowned Vince.

" ?"

Happy recollection hit Vince's face. "Oh yeah! That was when I was going through my public phase. No boundaries, giving people access to me twenty-four seven, all my formerly private moments visible to everyone."

"Yeah, and you've had everyone spying on us ever since!"

Howard sighed and went to empty the washing machine, leaving the others to it.

"Nah, I've not bothered with that for ages, being open to the public's over, it's all secrecy now, that's why I've got one of them super-gumptions."

"You-what? How did you manage to set up a website anyway, you get technofear when the vacuum needs emptying."

"Bollo did it for me. He's a monkey genius. He put these cool stars all over it and everything!"

During this exchange, Howard had begun to put out the day's clean laundry, scatting quietly to himself, and Tara had risen from the sofa to root around the bookcase where Naboo had found the webcam. "How?"

"He said it was all numbers and stuff, you put the right ones in this right order, and..."

"No, I mean how were people viewing the webcam? It wasn't plugged in."

The two men shrugged. Tara sighed, exasperated. "If it's not plugged into anything it can't work, it's got no power, no internet access. It just isn't going to work."

"But it was working, I saw you all sat around. You were eating my chocolate hobnobs!"

The Noir siblings exchanged guilty looks. "We-ell, I don't see how it could work. It's like your phone making calls when it's turned off in a drawer somewhere. It just doesn't happen."

"Vince, did you put this here?" Asked Naboo.

"Yeah.." Replied Vince hesitantly, fearing that he may be in trouble. "It got most of the room from there."

"And all this ti-" Tara stopped short, her eye caught by the washing Howard was finishing setting out to dry. "Hey, what's happened to my pants? They're stretched out all weirdly!"

Howard quickly straightened up, offered a mumbled excuse about having an aquajazz class to get to, and left in a hurry, as Tara flung the pants from herself. After landing on Vince's hair, and Tara's lunch, they made a brief stopover on Naboo's nose before being banished to Slough, where they revolutionised the lives of a small family of rats and were instrumental in the beginning of the revolution which would annihilate the local population later that decade.

**I feel that no matter how Bollo may have tried to convince him otherwise, Vince's website would have looked a lot like Homer's Mr X page.**


End file.
